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dragons-bones · 4 years

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FFXIV Write Entry #28: Humiliations Galore

Prompt: irenic | Master Post | On AO3

This fill is partially in response to @ahlis-xiv‘s fill for ultracrepidarian, which you can read HERE! (And it goes without saying you should read her other fills and assorted writing, too!) The Ahlis mentioned herein, of course, belongs to her. \o/

Synnove felt her face twist into something foul and ugly and absolutely capable of curdling milk as she stared down at the letter on her desk. Halulu took one look at her and immediately fled back to the relative safety of her own office one floor down.

The envelope was fine vellum, waxed to protect its contents, tied with twine and the tie further sealed with wax. It was unremarkable, really, and appeared no different from any other important missive that Mealvaan’s Gate might receive from near and far.

Save for the seal of the University of Radz-at-Han pressed into the wax.

Synnove’s lip curled up in a sneer.

Mama, just open it, Galette sighed from her usual perch draped around her shoulders.

Synnove grimaced, but reached for the envelope and slid it closer to herself on the desk. She wedged her thumbnail beneath the wax seal and wiggled back and forth until it popped off, then slid the vellum from the twine and opened the flap. Reaching in, she pulled out two letters, folded over and individually sealed with different wax and stamps, at which she frowned.

And then raised her eyebrows as she noticed the thicker letter of the two, the one closed by deep red wax with a plain stamp, had writing in a very familiar hand on the outside.

READ THE OTHER ONE FIRST.

Now, what in the six hells was Thaisie Valeroyant up to?

Synnove stared with narrow, suspicious eyes at the letter from the Chair of the Department of Arcanima from the University of Radz-at-Han’s College of Mathematics, drumming her fingers on her desk for long moments as she mentally flicked through a list of possibilities. Finally, she let out a heavy sigh and scowled, snatching up the other letter, popping the wax seal, and unfolding it.

My dearest Mistress Greywolfe—

Synnove dropped the parchment, recoiling with a disgusted shriek. Galette HISSED, rising to a crouch as she bared her teeth and bristled her fur, tails lashing.

She knew that handwriting, knew that deep blue ink, knew that absolutely repulsive cologne that wafted into her face.

The first letter was in her hand in an instant, wax seal ripped off and parchment unfolded.

I promise, Synnove, the other letter is worth soiling your fingers and eyes.

Synnove ground her teeth, rage roiling through her, but she took a deep breath through her nose for a five count. Held it for another five count. Let it out with a final five count.

“Thaisie, you are going to owe me so much alcohol,” she muttered under her breath. She set down Thaisie’s letter and reached up to pet Galette, soothing them both for a few moments. Then, she picked up one of the half-sticks of graphite from the pile in the corner of her desk, and used it to poke the other letter flat, sneering as she did. Once that was done, she threw the graphite into her trash bin.

Finally, with a grimace, she leaned over her desk to read the letter from Bahram Zarir.

Synnove sat back after the first flowery paragraph and exchanged a confused look with Galette. “Did he actually…?”

I think so? Galette chittered, ears flat against her head.

They leaned forward again to read the next paragraph.

“…Ah. Never mind. He still, in fact, has his head shoved up his ass so far that the apple on his throat is actually his nose. Good gods, how as he gone this long without developing critical thinking skills, or the ability to remember what he wrote in a previous paragraph?”

She continued reading, occasionally muttering comments such as, “My gods, you absolutely disgusting piece of worm-ridden filth,” to which Galette snickered. Finally, she reached the end of the letter, and slid back into her chair.

And started giggling.

It evolved into a full body guffaw, rising from deep in her belly, and Synnove bent over as she howled with laughter, for so hard and so long it became silent heaving that shook her whole body. Galette sighed and rolled her eyes, holding on as her perch pitched to and fro. As Synnove finally calmed again, she brushed tears from her eyes.

“Oh, my gods, that was hilarious,” she wheezed. “Gods, I only hope I’m there on the day his hubris gets his sorry plagiarizing ass killed so I can laugh him all the way to the Hell of Water. What a cunt.”

Still chortling and catching her breath, Synnove carefully picked up Bahram Zarir’s letter with the very tip of her thumb and forefinger, and dumped it in the trash.

“Please remind me to get Ivar to burn that later,” she said, wiping her hand on her pants.

Yes, Mama!

Then, finally, she picked up Thaisie’s letter to read.

He really is such a prick, isn’t he? It’s a wonder he hasn’t become a victim of Thavnairian politics, but then he’s probably too thick to be a credible threat to any of his relatives or their myriad enemies. Just a shame we got stuck with him. I’m fairly certain the dean was dreaming about defenestrating him and a few other of the legacy children during the last open thesis read.

In any event, I thought you might enjoy the attached to make up for the toad’s sorry attempt at civility: a copy of the abstract for Master Zarir’s latest article. It’s still technically in peer review, but you’re a peer, as dirty as that no doubt makes you feel. Do what you will with this.

Also, yes, I know, I owe you alcohol. I already have a nice bottle of arak picked out for the next time Thubyrgeim allows you off your leash, or I’m able to attend a Lominsan conference.

Kisses!

Thaisie

“You’re such an asshole, Thaisie,” Synnove said fondly, shuffling the parchment to the second page. Zarir’s greatest weakness as a researcher was that frequently, he did have original ideas…but was frankly terrible at the execution and he outright stole others’ work in bits and pieces and tried to make a whole from it that fell apart if one breathed on it too hard. So, what trash was he on about now?

She read the abstract once. Blinked. Read it again, slower this time, than gave it a third pass.

Synnove set the parchment down flat on her desk, mind racing.

Zarir’s article was in peer review, and therefore it wasn’t public knowledge or in open circulation; the only individuals with copies would be Zarir, the reviewers, and Thaisie. He wouldn’t be able to add anything, with how the University handled its legacies’ attempts at academia, the peer review was mostly for show and the article would be published in the latest issue of their mathematics journal. There would be no turnaround time for Zarir.

And there was no way for anyone else to possibly know what he was publishing. Further, it was incredibly common for academics to hit on similar ideas and develop them in parallel without knowing until the other was published.

Zarir’s idea was similar to that of someone else’s here at the Gate. Oh, not hugely similar, but enough for the mainstays in the field to have a solid guess of which articles either had been reading and drawing inspiration from. But Ahlis had gone off in a completely different direction and what was more, her math was sound, the research actually done rather than theorized, and with a high chance of her succeeding and creating a new breakthrough in arcanima. And Ahlis’s work was ready for presentation at the upcoming research symposium. At which a few of the Hannish—not Zarir, if only because the dean didn’t want to deal with the political fallout of letting him set foot in Limsa Lominsa and the resulting murder—from the University would be attending.

Synnove smiled, slow and deliberate and sharklike, a dark chuckle rising in her throat, as she reached for a piece of fresh parchment and a graphite stick. She was quite thankful now that she hadn’t replied to Ahlis’s note just yet.

Ahlis,

I think you are more than ready! You’ve done your due diligence, even surpassed it, in laying your foundation. I still cannot find flaws in the theorems and equations you’ve laid out—your mathematics might need the occasional proofing, but your grasp of the principles is superb, and we’ve all needed a second set of eyes on our work when we’ve looked at the numbers for too long.

You are an excellent arcanist, Ahlis. As intimidating as it is to present research, the symposium presents a wonderful opportunity to receive feedback and collaborate on further avenues to explore your hypothesis. And, if word on the grapevine is true, I have no doubt your work will be leaving certain members of our community absolutely green with envy.

Give ‘em hell!

-Synnove

She signed with a flourish and folded the letter into neat thirds, wrote Ahlis’s name on it, and bound it with some of the leftover twine from Thaisie’s packet. “Amandina, Roksana,” she called out as she tied off the string, “would you like to run an errand for me?”

The twins poked their heads over the edge of their basket, the picture book they had been carefully pawing through forgotten. Their ears stood straight up, noses twitching in excitement—and then they were tumbling out of the basket and darting right for Synnove’s desk. Oh oh oh yes yes yes! they peeped excitedly. Errand errand errand we can do it!

The carbunclets skidded to a halt at their mama’s feet and looked up at her with huge eyes, their mass of tails shaking with excitement. Galette huffed, exasperated as always with their endless amounts of energy, but didn’t otherwise say anything as Synnove leaned over with the letter in hand.

“Do you remember where the Gate’s mailroom is?” she said, solemn.

Yeah!

The arcanist held out the letter, and Amandina very carefully accepted it, clamping down with her teeth to hold it firmly.

“Bring this down to the mailroom,” Synnove said, “and give it to Coster, and only Coster. He’ll make sure it’s delivered to its intended recipient! And then, once you’re done, come right back here, all right?”

Okay, Mommy! warbled Amandina, a determined set to her face.

We’ll be right back! said Roksana with a peppy chirp.

Then, rather than turn and trundle towards the door to her office, as Synnove thought they would, Roksana took one of Amandina’s ears into her mouth, and with a pop! of displaced air they were…gone.

Dead silence, as arcanist and carbuncle both stared, jaws hanging open, at the space the twins had been in just a few moments before.

“When did they learn to do that?” Synnove said, faint and bewildered.

I dunno. Galette tilted her head. Can I learn how to do that?

“Absolutely not, you’ll use it to break into the coldbox for my pies.”

Galette slumped into a full body sulk.

#ffxivwrite2020 #final fantasy xiv #oc: synnove greywolfe #synnove's carbuncles #other people's characters #ahlis ildilayan #dt's writing

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lockekatirci · 3 years

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WHEN GHOSTS COLLIDE.

Location: Million’s Square, side street. Time/Date: 13th November, 2180. Not long after orders received. Closed for: @ghcstmcth

It’s a poor idea to shoulder the belief that Locke has anything melodic inside his head; something that negates the thirst for knowledge and the criminalistic creeds that place him in a particularly virulent of positions. A harmonious rhythm doesn’t find home there even above the scars of horrors that do take up residence in the crevasses of brain matter and skewed neurons. Sirens that reverberate from every street, building and sentinel assisted vehicle do penetrate through; the only kind of sound that earns a tip of Katirci’s head, cigarette between calloused fingers lowering as though the sound is a momentary inconvenience. An opportunity is more fitting a descriptor. It’s an easy order – at least in the sense of understanding; approached like a job, failure seen as weakness is any regard. But a game of chase to Lokman that appears to have potential to end in red. Last resort, only, Locke. The sliver of a loyal soldier to SR that reminds him that he can still find the fun in hide and seek. A grin that’s a little too wide splits the opening of his face to reveal tobacco stained teeth; an off-white, yellow tinged shade that deters most from approach; but never stops them looking.

He’ll pretend it bothers him; but craves their eyes whether it’s absent adoration, unimportant. Fear still means he has a legacy; a name.

A man with a memorable one; known to the underworld by notoriety; off-kilter and barbarian in some ways, though, hidden in the stealth and grace of shadows that provide a mystique that isn’t quite matched anywhere else. Well, perhaps by a couple – those who he hasn’t entirely pieces puzzle pieces together of, yet; the rest of the Renegades. Whilst the dials of Katirci’s mind crank, he’s discarding the smoke against a brick wall, pressed like a squished accordion, grey ash marks the bricks and he lets it fall; crumpled, used. The grey mist from his sly grin breaks through the cracks in teeth; the slow wispful escape of a beast inside, fighting for escape.

It’s released when he turns to see the panicking crowds that desperately search for a haven of their own. Dispersed like ants fleeing a boot that’s come down on them, crushes hope and reminds them how breakable, squishable they are; how they run in fear when that sound screeches through the roads of Ilbern and evoke the cortisol response in all.

Orders are flexible, just as he expects the Madhouse to have spread fast through the lanes and alleys on the hunt for the monster let free. There’s an envy there somewhere, because the attention to be seen; Ilbern on guard from something without a name; a face, but is spoken in the mouths of all. Once more Locke, alive. He knows; doesn’t ever forget.

He steps into the road, boots hit concrete and a hand naturally reaches for the rear of cargos, the cold of a blade a comfort, curved fingers tease to slide and split flesh; like a fuel he doesn’t admit to anyone. A reason to begin the pursuit of the monster that’s leaving carnage in its wake; admirable, if only to Locke himself, a quiet approval.

It’s the sirens that confuse senses, takeover one of the five and deafen even the most perceptive of entities. Leave the other four on overdrive to somehow pre-empt the world around them. A ripping of tyres; a overpowering scent of burning rubber slaps those in the streets with a nauseating aroma – unless they’re accustomed to the more foul of things, it’s probably quite pleasant. But, Locke’s only just catching it over the blaring that rips through the town on the beginning of his hunt, and as though the only response if to become the ghost, the mechanical structure that barrels at speed carries a shadow on its left side like a monster it cannot detatch. He moves, flickers like a glitch in the matrix to stumble to the rear of the motorcycle; misses being taken out by the metal bike hurtling at him.

“Fuck,” quiet, unasked for through gritted teeth when he whips around, same dangerous fingers wrapped around the hilt behind him. It’s another second for another sense of sight to fully kick in, recognises the person skidding like a racer in the heat of finishing as champion of a street – ah, Locke knows. The visor of the pristine helmet worn is open, the glint of the woman’s eyes unforgettable and the tension once coiled in stiff muscles ease, breathes a laugh like it’s the most amusing of situations.

“Speed racer not only fallen from her podium, but has found pleasure in running rampant in the streets to take lives of innocent civilians now, I’m kind of envious,” the jibe is said lighter than it’s implications and Lokman’s met the glorious Astrid; found comfort in the ghost that’s his soul partner in playing in the acts of shadows, but hers, light where his is shrouds.

But there wouldn’t be any shadows if there were no sun to cast them.

“Where you running off to, Astrid,” a tease, tongue sliding along drying lips where cigarette smoke sticks like a slick layer of tar, “it’s not because you’ve seen a monster around, is it?”

#ghcstmcth #LOKMAN KATIRCI #[ INTERACTIONS ]#O: GHOST MOTH

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

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Excalibur #1: “The Accolade of Betsy Braddock”

As the magic of Krakoa seeps into Otherworld and puts Morgan Le Fay in a genocidal mood, Betsy Braddock tries to find her place in the new world while also dealing with her idiot brother.. but you know instead of Paul Rudd she has a reality warping man child with mental instablity. Meanwhile Apocalypse adopts an unprouncable name and a new misson statment as a wizard man, Gambit suppresses the urge to kill him and Goldballs tries a new somehow even worse name out.

Welcome back. Due to yesterday being kinda nuts, and the last review being more taxing than planned, this one is kinda late. But better late than never as dawn of X continues it’s win streak with Excalibur, back and better than ever. And thankfully this time, the exposition is all really easy to bake in as we go compared to my last few reviews, so without any delay, it’s time to forge the sword once again. This is Tini Howard and Marcus To’s Excalibur.

We open on a long info page revealing that when Xavier gave his big “While you Slept the world changed” or, to put it more acuratley “All I wanted was to love you , to help you to save your asses and all you did was either try to kill us, look away while others did, or make a token effort at best to help. Fuck you, we’re taking what’s ours bitches. “ speech, Apocalypse gave his own, in a sense telling Humankind “Magic is ours to take back now.... “

We cut to the present where Morgan Le Fay is in Otherworld, basically the court of king arthur, the source of Captain Britan’s power, and a realm created by the british public’s collective subconscious. I don’t get it either. But Morgan Le Fay, Arthur’s evil sister and long time pain in the ass of the Avengers in the 616, has taken over in his absence and nearly drowns one of her minons upon finding something in her well.. a weed affecting it.. and since the x-men have a plant motif and apocalypse made a big MINE NOW speech to the rest of the world.. it’s easy to see Krakoa’s involved. Nice work Apocalypse, your on Krakoa one week and you’ve already pissed off the neighbors.

After the opening titles, we cut to Braddock Academy, basically the british version of Xavier’s and Avengers Academy and unsurprisingly a pet project of Brian’s. Since the school is also the Braddock ancestral home, Betsy’s been crashing here while sorting things out after getting her original body back. Yeah for those of you not that familiar with Psylocke, which I am not but know at least this much, was body swapped with the Assian Kwannon. That was reversed shortly before Dawn of X, which in order to help smooth the transition has given each their own starring roll. And really it is an intresting thing to explore: Betsy spent 5 or 6 years in a body that was not her own, living her life, loving, and doing bloody awful things in the name of the greater good. So it’s no suprise being put back in her old body after all this time and the implications of having basically lived her life in someoen elses skin with the other person now having it back and being understandably pissed about it, having only not gotten it back sooner due to dying of the Legacy Virus. Thankfully this issue dives deep into it and we’ll explore it more as we go.

The child loudly complaning is Margaret, Brian and Meggan’s daughter. Margret is one of the few things Mark Guggenheim’s run on X-Men did that was all that intresting as, probably thanks to a combination of her dad’s magical man juice and her mom’s already shifting genetics, can already talk in full sentences and comprehend stuff at the tender age of 1. Betsy is of course heading to Krakoa but much like Kitty last week, she’s unsure. But it still works: Kitty was unsure because Krakoa, for whatever reason, basically rejected her and staying would just make her a ghost again. For Betsy, she’s gone from living in a stranger’s body and back again and is understandably frazzled and unsure of tommorow.

But as Brian escorts her to the portal on his property, a touch I like as Meggan is a mutant herself and Brian is a longtime ally so it makes perfect sense to put a portal down there both for his mutant students to depart and for Meggan to visit without having to leave her husband behind, he encourages her. This is something I love about the issue: most x-runs I see betsy in kinda forget she has a brother and Uncanny X-Force turned him into an asshole. Here, their close bond and past, she was a supporting character in his book first after all, is shown beautifully as Brian , while happy to have her back, wants her to move on with her life and knows she’ll do great.

As also seen above Betsy wishes their brother could join them though Brian isn’t so sure. I didn’t really get into Jamie in the other review, and i’m pleased as punch to get here there. Jamie is their older brother.. and also has schizophrenia and the power of god, two tastes that instead create a rancid punch that threatns all life as Jamie dosen’t think anything else is real. Despite this, Betsy wishes he’d be there to see it and hopes it’d make him better. After all if Apocalypse can find a new start here why not him? They literally have worse people on the island.

Speaking of the devil, after Betsy makes her awkward entrance, we cut to Apocalypse who’s of course standing out a window watching everything meancingly, because even when he’s on the good guy side and no longer plotting horribly Darwinian crimes.. he’s still a super villian deep down and old habits die hard. He’s visited by Trinary, a fairly new x-character introduced in X-Men Red, she’s a technopath, as well as one of the brain trust running Krakoa’s computer network. Also as you can see apocapse want’s to be called by his weird Krakoan name.. i’m just going to stick with Apocalypse as I assume it’s the same thing and even Tini Howard herself has flat out admitted she dosen’t have a translation for it and just scripts him as Apocalypse still. He also gets dagger eyes from everyone’s faviorite Cajun as he makes his villianous rant.

Remy does however have more reason than most to hate the man: He was one of Apocalypse’s horseman once: he attempted to go under cover, but underestimated how good the horseman process was and would up having to go to Mr.Sinister of all people to get himself back to normal. So yeah, having the guy who turned you into a monster that tried to kill your future wife, KINDA makes you not willing to have a ham sammich with the guy. Trinary came to fetch Apocalypse to check out a new gate that opened.. to otherworld.. the problem is Morgan sealed it, and thus Apocalypse , not being a moron, decides they need “a champion” to break it. And since Hercules is on a three month no pants cruise of the bahamas right now, he’s going to have to be less literal about it. Meanwhile MOrrigan is an asshole to a coven of sorcerers decreeing that they failed her by.. letting mutants exist. Yeah the one weakspot I have with the book thus far is the opening villianess: Morgan Le Fay simply isn’t that intresting and while she’s had a good storyline or too here she’s pissy because.. mutants found magic again. It isn’ t a terrible motive but her steroptical villaness “take my anger out out my minons” stuff is just tiresome and not at all entertaining. She’s the right level of threat for this book, just not fleshed out about enough and is the one real dry spot in this issue.

Back on Krakoa, Betsy runs into Kwannon and it’s.. about as awkard as you’d expect as you can see.. and really isn’t helping Betsy’s unease. And I actually, despite not having read a ton of comics with Betsy in them get why she’s so uneasy besides the obvious problems of having the woman whose face you stole around all the time: she has no idea what to do. Everyone else on Krakoa, for the most part at least, is fully on board with the new plan, rairing to go. Sure some understandably object to their old foes being there… but theirs a sense of optimism and wonder and happy.. that just dosen’t go with someone who has so much blood on her hands she looks like she took a guys heart out with her bear hands, is in a body that hasn’t been home in years, and has to look the person who’s body she stole, intentional or not, and didn’t put any effort into bringing back from the dead or once she was back giving her her body back in the face. She’s just not in a great place. Thankfully even if her old pal Jubilee dosen’t pick up on this she does get Betsy could probably use some booze. Unfortunatley pressing matters keep her from finding out if krakoa can pour mimosa’s directily into her mouth via some kind of hose bush:

It’s your pal and mine goldballs, one of the five mutants able to raise the dead (but the car is fine). Or Egg I guess but I’m not calling him that. For one goldballs is a far better name just for the ridiculous factor. For another, just call yourself goldeggs. It’s still dumb but egg is somehow dumber. Even add a Z if you want no one cares. Your one of Krakoa’s own personal jesus’. You could rip a person’s throat out and no one would care… though granted that’s also because death is now meaningless for mutants. But yeah as you can see he has a problem and it’s Jamie.

And yup Jamie is back, alive and while not trying to kill everyone, is still kind of a weird asshole. Also I do not want to know what he did in there but I presume he fucked at least one person. Maybe he made them out of thin air, maybe they just came in. Maybe Sinister decided why not. Either way he’s fouling up the pods, and soon puts his foot in his mouth by saying Betsy’s classic look reminds him of better times right after their parents died. However in a nice little character bit he quickly apologizes, showing he has genuinely changed thanks to his resurrection on some level, and admits that the real reason is because they were all together then and all happy. As for why he’s a nusiance, it’s simple: while ressurectees DO need time to recover from you know, the whole being dead thing, it usually takes about ten minutes for the shock to wear off. And while there’s clearly no shock left Jamie is just farting around. Betsy’s response is to treat him like a ten year old.

It..actually works.. but unfortunately Jamie has about as much intrest in seeing Brian as Brian does in seeing him. And I see why: before he went insane, Jamie was still a supervillian and still hunted brian out of jealousy, while Jamie.. is just kind of a dick. He’s like Krakoa’s own discord: he’s not an apocalyptic godlike threat to the world any more but he will fuck with you just for cheap laughs. Betsy tries using her telepathy to force him to go but Fabio stops her, as it upsets the eggs apparently and decides to drag Brian here, something even Jamie can see as a bad idea. And when the naked man whose been back for all of 5 minutes can see the holes in your plan, maybe you rethink things. But I also get why Betsy is trying so hard at this: She has almost no stablity left and Brian has been her rock, past and present. But Jamie is still her brother and now has the potetinal to do good and while still a loon, is no longer a genocidal madman and is stubbornly refusing to reconcile because he’s decided to swear off humanity. She just wants her family whole and her brothers not trying to kill each other, but is in too bad a state to recognize they need time and may NEVER get along. it’s how it is with family. Dosen’t mean she has to choose one or the other. Brian wouldn’t make her and frankly Jamie isn’t dumb enough to try that. Thankfully apocalypse interupts Betsy’s extrodinarly bad plan to ask her about the gate.. and point out that Brian himself would be the best way and that, even as a half human, he’d be welcome here in this crisis. He probably get some leeway since apparently the captain britan thing makes him half otherworlder and he is a cosmic champion versus just some joe who wants to enjoy a paradise he hasn’t earned thorugh hard work or nearly dying a bunch.

Betsy heads to Braddock Manor where Brian is already planning on going to Otherworld to fix this and is naturally not all that inclined to listen to Apocalypse. So as seen above Betsy goes with plan B: She’s going with him even if it’s a trap because fighting alongside her brother doing the right thing is better than moping around an island trying to dodge Kwannon. This also gives me a nice opprotunity to bring up Betsy’s approach to their former enemies. She’s far more accepting than the rest, even Logan outright objected, but I also easily get why: She’s former black ops, having served on one version of X-Force and lead the one right after it. She understands the need for pragmatism and is a pragmatic person. It’s probably why she’s so willing to forgive Jamie: yeah he did terrible things, but at his worst he was mentally ill, and as established by X-Men #1, Krakoa has terrific healthcare and telepaths and empaths to help him work through his issues. He may not WANT to of course, but he’s more likely to and him slowly improving in paradise is better than her brother just being dead to her as a genocidal mad man. They encounter Morgan who, being basically a 50′s disney villian, expects Brian as otherworld’s champion to start drowning his own sister.. because fuck subtley.

Back on Krakoa we meet up with Rouge and Gambit. As a tiny bit of exposition for you lapsed ex fans the two are now married. The two reconciled in the excellent Rouge and Gambit mini series, hashing out their long and messy history. Then X-Men gold happened.. see there was SUPPOSED to be a wedding of Colosus and Kitty.. but their reconcilation was so terribly forced no one wanted the wedding and editoral had gambit, of course, steal The Wedding. So the two are in a happy place, though Rouge dosen’t want to use her power dampener on paradise, understandable as said dampener is a repurposed anti-mutant thing and it’d be like brining a pile of nazi gold as your present to a jewish wedding. Rouge then decides , as shown above ot bring up the idea of having kids but before Gambit can say “of course”, Trinary summons them for apocalypse. Apocalypse needs Rouge as he figures her absoprtion power might allow her to serve as a gateway, and a way to retrieve Betsy. Remy, Understandably, dosen’t want her to do this But Rogue is willing to take the risk to save her friend. Remy , now tenativley on board, suggestings bringing in Jubes since she was the last one to talk to Betsy, but A-Train is way ahead of them.

Naturally, having talked to her all of one sentence, she has nothing. Also curiously apparently Apocalypse wanted Jubes to bring her son, adopted if you didn’t knokw about him, Shogo with her but shockingly she didn’t want to bring her son to see the scary blue man who had no trouble trying to do a murder on a child when she was younger. However Apocalypse really needs her as a bridge between minds: Rouge will touch the portal to break through it and Gambit will keep watch and is all too happy to. As a side note i’d lvoe to see apocalypse babysit “So you see small infant, after that I cleaved the flesh off his skull and put said skull on a pile as a warning to my enimies. You always want to get the flesh nice and clean off.. .the bits create more of a smell and you need to think of the smell. Speaking of the smell I think someone needs a changie!”

I would too, but i’m pretty sure Remy would be a ground smear, but I think Apocaypse does respect his willingess to try anyway even if he dosen’t take gambit serious as a threat.

Back in crazy magic lady town Morgan is slowly corrupting Brian, and despite Betsy’s best attempts to stop it, is quickly turned into a warped dark knight who’s trying to shove the amulet of right in her face for some reason.

But with Apocalypse plan in motion, she figures out what’s going on and destroys the portal.. unfortuantley for Rogue this causes to feel weird and then well.. this is the end result.

What exactly the fuck dosen’t even begin to describe this.

Back in King Arthur’s House, Trinary’s words not mine, Betsy tries to kick Morgan’s ass but Dark Brian blocks her… before the above happens.. and it’s clear WHY he was cramming the amulet down her throat... Morrigan has full control of him, he can’t do anything to stop her.. but he can pass it on so she can hopefully stop her or , if he can’t be freed, destroy him before he harms anyone else. He sends her back to the real world as Betsy wails> This scene is damn powerful, as we’ve seen before Brian was one of the few people who understood she was going through some shit and offered her his full support... and now he’s gone, no idea how to rescue him, leaving a wife and daughter behind.

Back on Krakoa things arne’t much better wirth Rouge int he flower cocoon I showed earlier and Gambit ready to blow Apocalypse’s head off.. and as you can see Apocalypse is like “Fine i’ll come back from it stronger, but can you please wait? We’ve got a lot of shit going down. But before Apocalypse can pound Remy into a Cajun Corpse, the assembled group is distracted by a returning Betsy.

And so we end on Betsy, now fully crowned once again as Captain Britain, wondering what the fuck is up with Rogue. We get a quick Epilogue where one of the covern from earlier joins a cult based on the same one related to apocayplypse and we’re out. ‘Final Thoughts: Excalibur #1 is a good start. While some things don’t quite gel, Otherworld isn’t explained at all for those who have never heard of it (raises hand), it feels fresh and makes me invested in Betsy’s struggle, the tragedy Brian goes through, Remy’s fury and Apocalypse, who for once gets to serve as a wise sage instead of a warrior and it’s an intresting role for him, as well as him clearly being set up to mentor Betsy as she rises higher than ever before with her new role. It makes you want to see what comes next and the only real drawback is that Jubilee is basically a tagalong while Rictor is entirely absent, but both I suspect will be fixed with time. As fhte first part of a story, and the first Dawn of X Comic to be part of an arc since the two mini series that launched it, it works well setting things up. As I said the comic suffers from a lack of exposition on Otherworld and from a weak villain, but it’s not enough to distract from this fun, well crafted fantasy and I can’t wait to see what comes next. Until next time, hail to the queen baby.

#excalibur #dawn of x #captain britain #psylocke #betsy braddock #rogue #gambit #jubilee #trinary #goldballs #jamiebraddock #otherworld #analysis of x

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matsuoclan · 5 years

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Pairing: Colt x MC Rating: Teen to Mature Category: Angst(ish) with a Hopeful Ending Tag List: @sibella-plays-choices @desiree-0816 @liamzigmichael4ever @twin-skltns @choicesarehard @euphonyinestetica @navigatorholmes Notes: My study of Colt Kaneko for RoDAW! This is a HUGE departure from my usual style and was a bitch to write but I’m proud of it lol. Enjoy!

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His father wears anger like a second skin.

Teppei Kaneko’s rule over his shop is absolute, quiet until it’s not, and even as a kid Colt knows that when his Pop gets that look in his eyes it’s either hide or get caught in the blast. When Pop’s angry, he’s not the Pop who puts on car movies and makes popcorn and nudges Colt so he doesn’t miss the next part. When Pop’s angry, he’s Kaneko: dangerous, terrifying, and king.

He loves his Pop.

He fears Kaneko.

People tell him he has his father’s eyes, but sometimes when his little body shakes with so much rage it threatens to break him, he thinks he inherited something worse.

The part he hates most about falling is the wild feeling in the pit of his stomach as he plummets. The next is the impact.

Or maybe he just hates falling in general.

The water is freezing under overcast skies. It’s nothing like the pool his mother sometimes takes him to on weekends he doesn’t see his father. Instead it’s murky and agitated and his imagination kicks into overdrive, feeding him image after image of sea monsters in the depths below, ready to pull him underneath and eat him while he drowns.

He thrashes between the waves, looking up at the cliff, hoping against hope that he’ll be able to see his Pop peering over the edge to make sure he’s ok.

Pop isn’t looking down from the cliff. Colt was stupid to think otherwise.

His teeth chatter when he heaves himself out and climbs all the way back up to the top, shivering violently in his sopping clothes. Pop’s in the same position as before, arms crossed and eyes trained on the horizon. Again, he tells Colt. Jump again.

This time when he surfaces, he can’t tell if the salt on his tongue is from his tears or the sea.

At 8, Colt’s deepest secret is he wishes he had a different dad. His darkest is he doesn’t wish that at all.

Sometime between growing up and spending more time at the shop, he learns what his father actually does for a living and it’s an exciting, new world. It’s his family history, the family business, and one Colt wants more than anything to be a part of and one he thinks he’d be good at.

His father disagrees. His father disagrees vehemently. Maybe not in so many words at first, but it’s not hard to guess why Colt’s only allowed in the shop on some weekends and not others, why some conversations abruptly come to a halt whenever he draws near.

The moments etch themselves unpleasantly into his skin, because he doesn’t understand.

Pop shares every other aspect of his life with him -- teaching him to drive, to drift, anything he could ever want to know about cars -- but not what he wants most. Every time he asks, Pop gives him a short “no” with a crease between his brows and a downturned mouth as if Colt’s asking for something painful and impossible.

He barges in on a meeting once when they’re preparing for a job to demand they let him in, sick and tired of being left out, and it’s the beginning of the end. Never has he seen his father so furious, and it’s never, ever been directed at him.

In the moment, Pop and Teppei Kaneko cease being two people. Colt stops being scared altogether, opting instead to stand his ground and demand respect for being his father’s son.

Teppei laughs bitterly, and throws him out.

His mom moves away a month later, and he goes with her. She insists it’s because she found a better job in another state with a great school district and cheap in-state tuition. Teppei calls it an opportunity to explore his options and his future, but Colt can recognize exile when he sees it. There’s so much wrongness in leaving California and it pulls at him with every step he takes, leaving a hollow feeling between his ribs that he can only fill with rage, because if he stops to consider how hurt he is over being abandoned, he’ll break.

He can’t do much from where he is, not yet, but Teppei doesn’t get to decide he wants a son instead of an heir when he raised him at the foot of his throne.

Colt grudgingly does the school thing because his mom asks him to.

It wouldn’t be a bad life. He could get his degree, get an office job and benefits and a 401(k), wear pressed button-ups and wingtip shoes and go out with friends on the weekend. Many people do it, and they seem content enough. For over a year he throws himself into college, losing himself to classes and classmates alike in a blur of secondhand textbooks and shitty beer and sloppy hookups, pretending he’s there because he wants to be, just like everyone else.

To his credit, he does try. But in the end, it feels like suffocating little by little, and Colt has no interest in dying before he’s lived.

He roars back into California on his motorcycle with a different state’s license plate, carrying nothing but a rucksack and an axe to grind. Los Angeles is mostly the same: smoggy skies, congested freeways, construction on every other street. It’s comforting in its familiarity, that he can spend years away and LA will be just as much of a shithole when he returns.

The savage pleasure he gets from the shock on Teppei’s face is a good enough welcome home.

Logically he knows his father runs a crew and needs people to be in it, but it’s another thing entirely to see that most everyone is the same except for the one he’s been replaced with. Logan’s a simple pretty-boy who Colt is surprised can string more than two words together and he’s more than a little insulted that this is his replacement, but at least he’s not sent away like he expects.

What he also doesn’t expect is her.

She’s a pretty wisp of a thing that sticks out like a sore thumb and Colt hates her on sight. He’s an ass to her but she gives as good as she gets, meeting him barb for barb with a pointed glare. If he was at all inclined to fall in love with a tourist, that would do it.

He doesn’t understand why she’s there at first. By all appearances, she’s slumming it at the shop instead of spending her days studying or hanging out with a father who actually wants her around. Unlike the rest of the crew, she’s got a great future already laid out for her.

It’s not until he’s sitting in her passenger seat before her license test, observing the way she comes alive when she masters drifting and upends his entire worldview in a single breath, that it clicks, and.

Oh.

After, she bursts out of the DMV in a flurry of excitement, waving at him like mad and grinning so wide it blinds him, and his traitorous heart skips a beat.

Colt can count on one hand the number of times he’s been genuinely frozen in terror, but none come close to finding his dad slumped over in a pool of his own blood. Suddenly he’s a little scared boy again and he forgets himself in that moment, forgets that he’s supposed to be furious at his at his father, because words like blood and injury and weakness shouldn’t exist in the same sentence as Teppei Kaneko.

His bloodied hands won’t stop fucking shaking. Distantly he registers someone’s arms around him but all he knows is terror until his father wakes, and then he learns he has the Brotherhood to hate.

It is, after all, easier to be angry.

“It’s okay to admit you’re worried.”

“It’s okay if something just takes your breath away.”

She says things like that a lot, like it’s that easy. For her, it probably is. She wears her heart on her sleeve in a way Colt envies, so free with her thoughts and emotions it’s almost painful for him to watch.

Anger is his oldest, most comforting friend and the one that’s easiest to run to when the other emotions start creeping in. But she sees right through his bullshit and calls him out on it and then some and he’s left floundering, thrown off his axis by someone he thought would cut and run if he just insulted her enough.

It’s kind of nice, being proved wrong on something like that.

They jump off the cliff together, her for the first time and him for the first time in years, and the water closing in around him is different somehow: more like a friend welcoming him back after a long absence than a monster waiting in the wings to devour him. Maybe it has something to do with how he’s changed, but he thinks it has everything to do with the girl squeezing his hand.

When she kisses him, it’s clear she’s never kissed anyone before. Her mouth is clumsy against his but like each new thing he’s seen her try, she masters it quickly with the next kiss and the next and steals his breath right out from his lungs.

For the first time since returning he allows himself to want something besides what he came back for, and at the first hint of guilt instead of reaching for anger, he remembers her words.

Like she said.

It’s ok.

It’s ok to want her.

Coming up with this plan in tandem with his father is not so much crossing a line as it is setting the world on fire and dancing in the flames. Teppei looks at him differently now, has done so since the Grapevine job, and it is everything Colt has ever wanted to be trusted with his family’s legacy the way he deserves.

He takes a moment to look at his Pop, tracking his eyes over new wrinkles and larger eye bags. There’s more gray in his long strands, and a tattoo he hasn’t seen before on his forearm. Pop catches his eye and gives him a ghost of a smile.

It’s a strange thing, to relearn his father at the same time Pop relearns him.

Bitterness is not a new feeling. That he has to relearn his father at all leaves a foul taste in his mouth if he thinks about it for too long, so Colt ignores it in favor of the task at hand. He has Pop’s trust now, has a chance to prove he belongs, and the first step to doing that is to make sure the Brotherhood disappears forever.

Against all odds, the first part of the plan goes beautifully. When Mona suggests they all go dancing, it’s the promise of their freedom within his grasp that makes him say yes.

Colt isn’t a stranger to falling.

He’s been falling for as long as he can remember. But this time, he is in love with a girl with little recollection of how he got there. All he knows is the swooping feeling in his belly started before they leapt off the cliff and didn’t disappear the way it was supposed to when they hit the water. Instead it’s made itself a home inside him, growing in size until he feels he’s in perpetual nosedive every time he so much as looks at her.

The part he hates most about falling is the wild feeling in the pit of his stomach as he plummets. But in the darkness of the warehouse with each press of her mouth against his, he thinks maybe it isn’t so bad.

Love doesn’t blind him to ugly realities, and the reality is loving her doesn’t make him any less of an asshole.

There’s naked hurt on her face when she bolts out of the shop, crushed by the revelation of his father and Logan’s deception, and yet he can’t stop smiling because she finally knows the way they’ve been using her.

He doesn’t regret what he did, but he does regret how he did it. Hurting her was never on the agenda, or at least that’s what he tells himself when he catches up to her and convinces her to get in her car.

When she kisses him, he can forget just how he’s used her too.

The crew falls apart. Anything that can go wrong does. Their one chance at freedom disappears like smoke in the wind and he transforms into something ugly and jagged in the fallout, barely able to contain the fury in his voice, searching for someone to blame as he escapes with her on his motorcycle.

It is, after all, easier to be angry. Especially when he goes nauseous at the thought of finding her lifeless body in the vault had his plan continued the way it was supposed to.

But then, it doesn’t matter anymore. Any relief that she’s still alive burns up with his father and his family’s shop and then all he knows is pain and pain again. All he wants is for it to stop, barely able to hold it together in front of the others, traitorous thoughts screaming in his mind that this is somehow his fault, because it was his plan, and the awful realization makes him want to pull over and empty the contents of his stomach onto the street.

Teppei Kaneko’s blood has been on his hands in more ways than one.

He makes it somehow to the cliffs after leaving the others and it’s there in the dead of night with only the sound of waves for company that he finally breaks. Grief rises in the back of his throat as he collapses at the edge but rage, his ever-present friend, comes to his aid.

Only this time, instead of one beating the other into submission, they ally and forge a different monster altogether, taking root in his lungs and choking him from the inside out as the explosion replays over and over in his mind.

He is abandoned, all over again, by a father who thought he knew best.

Life cannot possibly be this fucking unfair but even as he thinks it, Colt knows it is. Hot tears spill messy down his cheeks and he sobs, wounded and wild, demanding for the universe to tell him where he went so wrong that his own father would think he would be better off in a world without him in it.

The universe does not answer, because the universe does not care.

He knows this, but demands anyway.

In the aftermath there is no body to bury and no shop to return to, but the ghost of Teppei Kaneko lingers in every breath of his son. Colt pieces himself together out of ashes, and begins anew.

Maybe it’s harebrained to see her when there’s a price on his head, but her surprise when he appears at her friend’s doorstep is a memory he’ll keep tucked inside his heart for a long time: shock, then wonder, then awe, and the brightest smile she’s ever given him.

He’s sure he had his reasons for not going to his own prom, but it’s hard to remember any of them when she descends, a vision in pink, down the stairs.

If she wants to go to prom, he’ll give her the best damn time he can.

It’s all so normal, this glimpse into her life, seeing her teachers, friends, classmates. She stands out from all of them in his eyes, miles above where any of them could even aspire to reach, so radiant in her happiness that he can do nothing but drown helplessly in it.

So it’s everything when he cuts himself open for her, more raw and more vulnerable than he’s ever been in front of anyone, and tells her he loves her with a shaking voice.

The more amazing thing is, she says it back.

He’s been with people before, but no one he wanted. No one he loved. He sinks into her, feeling her breath stutter out of her lungs, and whispers it over and over into her skin like a mantra, worshipping at her altar, because now that he’s said it he’s never taking it back.

I love you.

It’s not completely unexpected that the Brotherhood finds them. Like everything good in his life, as soon as he’s granted a moment of happiness it’s interrupted or snatched away. What’s different this time, is her.

He’s learned his lesson. Keeping her out of the loop for the first plan didn’t end well for anyone and in the week following his father’s death, he’s run over every little thing that went wrong hundreds of times in his mind until his heart was numb, and it all came down to secrets and lack of trust.

Too little too late, but he knows better now.

Their plan is risky, with more room for error than he’s comfortable with, but it’s the best they can come up with on short notice. His nerves shot, he squeezes her hand before she gets into her car and drives off, unable to force any sort of words out of his throat.

She squeezes back, understanding.

Everything comes down to this last showdown, what’s left of the Mercy Park Crew congregated in a high school parking lot with guns trained on them. His pulse still pounds in his ears from seeing her car roll over and over before coming to a stop roof-down, but she crawls out of a window, alive, and the tightness in his chest loosens where it sat like a stone underneath his sternum since they parted ways at Vaughn’s house.

And then it’s finished. The Brotherhood is defeated, and it is all because of her.

She goes with him to Ladera Heights and together they watch as the FBI pushes that bastard, handcuffed, out of the house. Relief and triumph and something else war inside him and it’s all he can do to keep from keeling over into the street. It’s over. It’s done. His father is avenged, and he is free, and there is nothing left to do but rebuild.

The Mercy Park Crew may be no more, but he remains, and with him, the legacy of his father and his father’s father before him.

In the moment that’s enough.

She leaves like she’s always planned to and takes half of his heart with her. Colt accepts it despite himself, because this isn’t abandonment. This isn’t about him at all. As much as he wants her to stay and rebuild with him, he doesn’t begrudge her choice to find herself and figure out her place in the world, because it’s more than anyone has ever afforded him. When she returns -- and he has a gut feeling that she will -- he will be here.

She is his driver, forever, and he will wait as long as she needs.

The taste of their good-bye is still on his tongue when he pulls up to the cliffs, parking his motorcycle to the side and trudging over tiredly to sit with his feet dangling over the edge. It’s early in the AM now, and he watches the California sky turn from midnight blue to orange to pink as the sun rises over his back.

The remainder of his heart beats slow and steady within his ribcage, finally at peace, and then he exhales and lets the sunrise take his breath away.

In the end, she finds her way back to him, and he is whole again.

Fin.

#rodaw #choices #playcoices #colt kaneko #choices rod #ride or die #colt x mc #myfic #im sorry im really bad at keeping track of who wants to be tagged jhfjdhg

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omgnsfwisnsfw-blog · 5 years

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The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning: Second Chapter Prologue

It was nighttime, and the waning moon was, for some reason, vividly bright. Mike McGuire was laying in the middle of the ring in their backyard, staring up through the branches. The leaves had yet to sprout, but the buds were set to start opening up anytime. Same could be said for the young plants newly set in the soil near the back porch- a small plot of land freshly tilled up, planted with varying marigolds, daffodils, impatiens, and centered in it all, a rosebush received for Valentine’s. It was nice and neat, every plant perfectly arranged. The same could not be said for the garage.

--------------

It had all began not even a few days ago. A few days ago after losing their beloved tag team championship belts at the biggest show of the year. They had spoken little. They showered, dressed, went to the hotel, slept, got on the plane the next morning. And somewhere over the ocean, John had turned to Mike, and in a rare initiation of conversation…

“Mike.”

John was looking out the window, like he did with every trip, and there was a quiet mesmerization about it. Mike startled a bit. He didn’t usually initiate conversation. Sometimes early on they wouldn’t speak for hours, and when Mike asked why he wasn’t talking to them he simply replied ‘you didn’t say anything.’ Him breaking his ‘speak when spoken to’ habit usually indicated he had something important on his mind, so they’d shifted and given him their full attention. “Yeah, bud?”

“I turned 42 two weeks ago.”

He didn’t sound overtly happy about it. John’s emotional inflection was a subtle, nuanced thing, but by now Mike had become very attuned to picking it out. Still, they offered him a wavery little smile, probably in an attempt to cheer the both of them up. “You shoulda told me that. Woulda made you a cake.”

John shrugged.

“Better stuff to celebrate.”

His hand touched the window briefly.

“Like us.”

He turned to Mike in his chair and spoke low.

“But what I mean is that … maybe I can continue to do this. Maybe my body holds up a little longer. But I’ve come to realization that I don’t want to.” They sat up bolt upright, their head tilting to the side. For a moment they resembled an Irish Setter who just heard a far-off dog whistle and was trying to process what in the world that sound was. “You wanna stop? Like… this minute?” It wasn’t accusatory- more like confirming that the sounds coming out of his mouth were forming words that they were understanding the meaning of.

“Yes.” “You sure?” “Yes.” They sat back in their seat, expression a little dazed, as if showing mild signs of shock. Then they closed their eyes, inhaled, exhaled. Managed a smile, wobbly for a different reason than their previous one, and reached over, giving his wrist a squeeze. “...okay.”

The declaration had caught Mike completely off guard. In a way, they thought, they should’ve seen it coming at some point- he’d made some remarks about the ugliness of the business, beginning to think past it. But they hadn’t thought it would happen so suddenly. It was like driving at 60 MPH and then suddenly slamming on the brakes, the sudden jettisoning into the seatbelt knocking out all your breath and leaving your insides hurting. They went home. He planted his garden, seeming serene and perfectly content. Mike gave Alundra a once-over- they’d had her painted in their absence, the vivid yellow and red flame paintjob traded for an emerald green with orange flame one. The new vanity plates installed- NSFW 1. Something stabbed inside them. The next day. Grocery shopping. Mike going over their particulars. So much had been provided for them that had to be taken into account now. Health insurance- the extended coverage wouldn’t last forever, and though they could easily afford it, plans for two people in their shape wasn’t going to come easily. Something pricked at their eyes. Mike kept staring at their phone. It would ring eventually, they just knew it, a gruff voice on the other end demanding what in the blue hell they thought they were doing, is this what I wasted my time on you for, pulling yourself out of obscurity and stumbling into the perfect partner just to vanish like a fart in the wind? They weren’t sure the old man would say that. But what would they think, when they heard? How would they explain ‘he wanted out and I couldn’t deny him that and I can’t keep going in good fucking conscience without him’? And so on till today. This evening. Just now. Mike found themselves in the garage. They looked around. A small box was on the table- a prototype of a new piece of merch. A snowglobe. Little figurines of them under a dome of glass filled with water. They held their title belts. Shake it, orange and green confetti glitter swirled around. Pieces of fanmail, notes on their Twitter, asked where they’d gone. Some wished them well. Some worried that they were hurt or worse. Some said they felt betrayed. Why couldn’t you have even said goodbye? We believed in you. Quitters. Mike’s grip tightened on the snowglobe, their teeth gritting together hard. ‘It got taken from me and I wasn’t ready, and it fuckin’ sucks. So bad.’ Their own words from a year past slam into their brain and with a roar, they throw the snowglobe down, sending a shatter of broken glass and glitter water splatting over the concrete floor. A t-shirt snatched from a box, the phoenix that’d been emblazoned on their viking flags torn in two with an obnoxious ripping sound, the rest of the box kicked over. Their head whipped around, glaring viciously at the cardboard face of David Scott. Screeching, all but consumed by their fury, they dashed forward, grabbing him by the top of his large, scowling head and tearing the cutout apart. They couldn’t believe their own anger. They felt robbed, cheated, resentful. And all those feelings made Mike feel even worse, because they didn’t want to direct them at John. They couldn’t have kept going if he hadn’t wanted to. They didn’t want to be one more person who knew his desires and chose to ignore them. Mike’s train of thought slowly cooled their anger. All that was left was a giant mess of broken glass, torn t-shirts, dented boxes, ripped up cardboard. Something sick heaved in their chest and they left the garage, numbly trekking through the backyard until they found themselves in the ring.

-------------- So there they were. Maybe they could salvage something. Maybe the fans they hadn’t completely alienated would still want them, for old time’s sake. If they got back into auto repair maybe they could even sell them there as a bonus. Nostalgia was always a hot ticket, and somebody in the future was bound to remember that one tag team that got super hot and then vanished without a trace out of nowhere. Raising an arm, they laid it over the bridge of their nose, shielding their closed eyes from the moonlight as they tried not to sob. Don’t be fuckin’ stupid.

John stood in the doorway of garage backdoor. Behind him was the aftermath of the disturbance that woke him. He had noticed immediately that Mike was gone. He had sat up from the bed and waiting until the noises subside. Quietly, he went to the garage and looked upon what had happened. His emotions ticked up slightly to disappointment that the quiet last few days had been a simmering pot and it had just spilled over. Soft footsteps went across the yard to the source. He stood just outside the ring, keeping his distance for the moment. He cut through the ambience of the night.

“I know you’re angry at me.” There was a long pause. The soft, occasional chirp of an early cricket or two. “‘M not mad at you. I feel shitty that I’m mad at all. S’ fuckin… complicated.” They didn’t move, their speech muted. If their anger was a fire, right now they were the embers that some knowledgeable Eagle Scout had doused with water and stirred up with a stick. Only You Can Prevent Wildfires. “...i didn’t want to not give you this. I feel like I’ve let people down. Myself a little. And then I get mad at myself cuz the alternative is what? Making you run yourself down when you don't want to anymore just to feed my own fuckin’ dream that I should’a grown out of? It… I…” Sniff. “...it just happened so fuckin’ quick. Like slammin’ a book shut ‘fore you read the end.”

John circled around to the wooden steps leading up onto the apron. He put a foot on the first step.

“I thought it would just be the end of a chapter.” Slowly lowering their arm from their face, they scooted themself across the canvas a bit away from the center- not a recoil, but an invitation. Reaching up, they curled their hand around the bottom rope. They knew that. It made them feel even more foolish for exploding the way they had, the silvery light of the moon accentuating the blush standing out on their damp cheeks. “I’m bein’ a fuckin’ dumb baby, aren’t I…”

“No. Not happy that I advertently made a decision for you as well.”

“We’re a package deal. Can’t do it without you. Don’t want to. I know what you said’s right. Our story ain’t over. Just feel like I’ve been thrown violently into the next scene without any time to brace myself. But I’ll get over it. Get over myself, maybe.” Their right arm, the one not gripping onto the rope, reaches out to the side, fingers beckoning a bit. “‘M sorry I broke all that stuff… poor Milscott…”

“It was just that. Stuff.”

He stepped up onto the apron.

“I believed in what we said. All of that talk about hall of fames and being the greatest. It was fun. It lit a fire inside of me. But it made me feel like we were walking down the wrong path. Like we almost did before.”

“Mouthy little shit talks a big game.” There was a dry chuckle at that. All that talk of being the first tag team in the EWC Hall of Fame would likely amount to just that. Talk. It was one of the things that’d jagged at them these past few days, that their ultimate legacy was apparently a foul-mouthed hothead who made big grandiose boasts only to bail without warning. Exhaling, they turned their head toward him, hand still reaching in his direction. “How so? We weren’t bein’ dicks again, were we?”

“No.”

He walked along the the edge of the apron, stopping just before them.

“Don’t think it was that simple. Our words, though? They started to mirror something we swear we’d never be. Started to have some folks nod along that weren’t before.”

It took Mike a moment to puzzle that one out, their mouth pursing, flicking two and fro, nose crinkling a bit. After a few seconds, though, their red-rimmed eyes popped, left hand releasing the rope and going to their mouth with a gasp. “Noooooo. You can’t fuckin’ mean… no. No motherfuckin’ way we were sounding like him. … Were we really?”

“Maybe not exactly. But it made me think. Readjusted a few priorities.”

He had finally stepped through the ropes and entered the ring. He stood over them.

“I would have gone as long as we had those belts. And sure, there were amazing possibilities on the horizon. I love the sport. But I had been wrong in the assumption that it was the only thing I was meant to do. You made me see that.” Mike looked up at him. From this angle he looked impossibly huge, and it made them feel smaller in comparison. Physically anyway. John never made you feel small as a person, and if he did, you probably deserved it. “...maybe I’ve had it backwards this whole time then. I kept seeing things as… I don’t fuckin’ know… a block building. You take out any one part of it- me, you, our home, the business- and everything falls to pieces. I mean I figured we’d stop someday, maybe in a year or two, kinda ease out of it, tell everybody where we were going an’ why. But in all those big fuckin’ pipe dreams I didn’t think about what you thought. I just assumed you wanted the same thing I did when it came to the business an’ that was fuckin’ selfish of me. I’m really sorry.”

He knelt down beside Mike, before finally sitting back, crossing his legs.

“I wanted all of that. But there’s more to us, I believe. I’d be naive to think there isn’t conflict elsewhere in the world but it is less likely than what we were doing. I had remembered what I loved about the business before it was taken all away. But more importantly, I now have something I never had.”

“...VIP customer status at Barnes and Noble?” The cheeky grin that flicked onto Mike’s face wasn’t the wavering, willing-yourself-to-smile expression she’d given him the last couple days. Like a breath of fresh air, it was real. Slowly, they pulled themself up to a sitting position, folding their legs likewise, facing him, reaching for his hands. Without hesitation, John placed his hands into theirs. He smiled in response to Mike’s joke. Sighing softly, Mike ran their thumbs over his knuckles tenderly. Even if they had been mad at him, it wouldn’t have lasted. They could be mad at a lot and hold grudges for ages, but never at him. Something about John was impossible to be angry with- least that’s how Mike saw it. “So… now what?”

John shrugged in response. But in that same moment, he felt an answer come through.

“We stop hiding who we are.”

#Location: Home #post EWC

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dipulb3 · 3 years

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2021 Honda Accord review: As good as it's ever been

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/2021-honda-accord-review-as-good-as-its-ever-been/

2021 Honda Accord review: As good as it's ever been

You can (and should) get the Accord in Sonic Gray.

Steven Ewing/Roadshow

The Honda Accord gets a few little improvements this year, none of which should hamper the perennial success of this easy-to-like family sedan. That’s more important now than ever, too, as the 2021 Accord faces against increasingly stiff competition. In addition to the Honda’s longstanding archrival, the Toyota Camry, companies like Hyundai, Kia and Nissan are offering better midsize options than ever before. Thankfully, the 10th-generation Accord was a winner from the get-go.

Smooth, strong turbo power

Spacious, comfortable, quiet interior

Engaging and refined to drive

Lots of standard driver-assistance tech

Don’t Like

No all-wheel drive option

Not as efficient as some competitors

Infotainment tech could use a refresh

In fact, this Accord was so good out of the gates that its mid-cycle refresh is limited to just a few styling tweaks, minor cabin tech upgrades and some model positioning/packaging changes. Honestly, the biggest news for the 2021 Accord is an improved hybrid drivetrain, which my buddy Andrew Krok talks about in detail in a separate review.

Visually, the slimmer LED headlights and wider grille of my Sport tester don’t really move the needle one way or the other, although I have to say the Accord’s new Sonic Gray paint option — which originally debuted on the Civic — looks totally hot. LX and EX-L models roll on milquetoast 17-inch wheels, while Sport, Sport SE and Touring trims get snazzier 19s, wrapped in 235/40-series tires.

Honda’s 1.5-liter turbo I4 is still the base engine option, putting out 192 horsepower and 192 pound-feet of torque. A more powerful 2.0-liter turbocharged inline-four is available with Sport and Touring models, bringing a healthy 252 hp and 273 lb-ft to the party. Sad trombone time, though: The Accord’s six-speed manual transmission option goes away this year. The 1.5T engine comes standard with a continuously variable transmission and the 2.0T has a 10-speed automatic. And before you complain, know that only a super-duper-small percentage of Accord buyers actually spec’d the manual gearbox. In other words, y’all only have yourselves to blame.

Another thing you can’t get on the Accord? All-wheel drive. I know AWD might sound like an oddity for a midsize sedan, but more and more automakers are embracing this foul-weather friendliness in an attempt to appease customers who simply don’t want an SUV. No longer reserved for the Subaru Legacy, the Kia K5, Nissan Altima and Toyota Camry all offer AWD now. Go to your Honda dealer looking for all-wheel drive and they’ll happily show you a CR-V.

These 19-inch wheels are unique to the Accord Sport.

Steven Ewing/Roadshow

The 2.0-liter I4 is a total peach of an engine — as it should be, since it’s effectively the same unit used in the delightful Civic Type R. You can ride a smooth wave of torque from just 1,500 rpm, and the 10-speed transmission is happy to hang out in the lower end of the engine’s rev range, making the most of that turbocharged woosh. On the other hand, this means the 10-speed gearbox is often hesitant to kick down and go-go-go-go-go when quick highway passes are demanded, though if you run the Accord in its Sport mode, the transmission is not only snapper to shift, but holds onto gears longer, too.

With the 2.0-liter engine, the Accord should return an EPA-estimated 22 miles per gallon in the city, 32 mpg on the highway and 26 mpg combined. That’s… fine. But similarly powerful turbocharged competitors like the Nissan Altima and Subaru Legacy are slightly more frugal. Of course, if fuel efficiency is a top concern, you’re probably better off just sticking with the 1.5T, or for that matter, an Accord Hybrid.

The Sport 2.0T has largely the same suspension setup as other Accord models, save for the Touring, which offers adaptive dampers. But even without ’em, the Accord Sport strikes an excellent balance of comfort and composure; this car will eat up highway miles with cool, collected confidence and it won’t get all pissy if you toss it into a corner with gusto. The steering is nicely weighted and quick to respond and, generally speaking, the Accord feels more agile than just about anything else in the class, except maybe the Mazda6. Maybe.

The cabin might seem a little plain, but it’s quiet, comfortable and neatly organized.

Steven Ewing/Roadshow

More than its outright sportiness, though, the Accord has an aura of refinement that’s missing from other midsize sedans. There’s a feeling of premium solidity that makes this Honda effortless to drive. Combine that with a quiet cabin and comfortable seats, and long stints behind the wheel of the Accord are anything but fatiguing.

This Honda is an easy car to live with day to day, too. The interior might lack the flashy design of some newer sedans like the Hyundai Sonata, but all of the Accord’s controls are exactly where you expect them to be and every surface you touch looks and feels really nice. Head- and legroom is generous for both front and rear passengers and there are plenty of little storage cubbies throughout the cabin, including one underneath the climate controls that houses a wireless charging pad on upper trims.

Every 2021 Accord now comes with an 8-inch touchscreen running Honda’s Display Audio multimedia system. Apple CarPlay and Android Auto are standard and can be operated wirelessly on any Accord that has the aforementioned charging pad. These are small tech upgrades, but thoughtful ones. That said, the Display Audio software really lags behind what a lot of other automakers offer in terms of design and functionality and the Accord can’t compete with the bigger screens and higher-res displays found in rivals like the Sonata and K5. Across its full portfolio, Honda could really stand to give its infotainment tech a boost.

Both 1.5-liter and 2.0-liter turbocharged engines are available.

Steven Ewing/Roadshow

At least driver-assistance tech is in high supply. Every Accord gets adaptive cruise control, lane-keeping assist, traffic-sign recognition, forward-collision warning and automatic high-beam headlights. Unfortunately, blind-spot monitoring with cross-traffic alert isn’t available on the lower trim levels and you can only get a head-up display on the top-end Touring. It’s all great tech to have, but man, the lane-keeping assist and forward-collision warning sure are sensitive. I find myself turning them off more often than not.

Starting at $25,765 including a $995 destination charge, the 2021 Honda Accord remains competitively priced within the midsize sedan class. You can’t get into a 2.0-liter model for anything less than $33,105 and a top-of-the-line Touring will run you just under $38,000. That’s a few thousand dollars more than you’ll pay for an equivalent Hyundai Sonata Limited, though the latter doesn’t have as much power and isn’t quite as nice to drive. The Hyundai offers more striking design, a longer warranty and way better cabin tech, though — three things that are arguably more important for the average family sedan buyer.

Still, while some competitors might surpass the Accord in specific aspects, none feel as wholly well-rounded. Well-built, good to drive, refined and handsome, Honda’s midsize sedan continues to be a great buy.

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hellomissmabel · 7 years

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Manhattan Mistress part 1

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader, Steve x reader, Tony x reader and OC!Casey (daughter of Y/N and Tony)

Summary: It’s election season and things are about to get heated. Y/N Rogers, previously Y/N Stark, is the daughter of the late mob boss of Brooklyn. She took over when her father died and runs the streets with a firm hand, although no one knows it’s her pulling the strings. Money must roll, especially when it comes from her ex-husband Tony Stark. Tony secretly endorses Steve Rogers’ campaign, currently running for alderman and seemingly oblivious to what happens behind the scenes of his so-called happy marriage. But then Bucky, Y/N’s oldest friend, shows up to win her back and decides to stir things up a little.

Word count: 3.236

Warnings: the reader doesn’t shy away from foul language and talk of sex, murder and infidelity.

A/N: my fingers have been itching to write this story! It’s much, so much darker than what I usually write. Dedicated to my favourite mob AU writer @caplanbuckybarnes. Congratulations on the 1.3k followers! Enjoy sweetie!

“I’m so happy you could make it. She’s been looking forward to spending some time with her daddy the entire week, she never stopped talking about it.”

Tony laughs lightly, his brown eyes lightening up as he scoops Casey up in his arms. He twirls her around before hoisting her over his shoulder, her beautiful curls dangling wildly in the air as her shrill giggles fill the atmosphere with so much glee you can’t help but break into a bright smile, shaking your head at their silly antics. She takes after Tony in so many ways, from her dark hair and piercing brown eyes to her analytical take on the world and even her sassy character. She’s still so young and yet it’s already as clear as day that Casey Stark is in fact her father’s daughter. At least she has inherited some of her mother’s quirks.

“Daddy has missed his favourite girls so much! You have no idea,” Tony exclaims heartily and you suppress a haughty laugh. There used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of you and vice versa. You love each other too much for your own good, not to mention you’re considerably younger than him, the source of many teasing remarks from certain enemies and even a couple friends although none of them have lived to see another day. But watching Tony pepper her tiny face with feather-light kisses, it’s so refreshing and it does things to your heart you wouldn’t believe. It flutters even higher as he makes these little and utterly adorable noises causing another fit of giggles to erupt from his daughter’s lips.

“My beautiful baby girl,” he purrs in a ridiculous voice, his fingers excitedly attacking Casey and engaging her in a tickle fight. “My beautiful baby girl and her insanely gorgeous mother.” He then looks up at you expectantly, giving you that look he knows will win you over, a look of melted gold that makes you weak in the knees. The only thing left to do now is flash his dazzling trophy smile and you’re a goner for sure. Fortunately he doesn’t but you can sense there’s an urgent question brimming his lips.

“What do you want, Tony?,” you sigh dramatically and he shoots you a knowing smile. Planting a chaste kiss on his temple, you sit down at the breakfast table, nibbling on a strawberry dipped in chocolate sauce before indulging yourself with a glass of fresh orange juice.

“Mind if I keep her for the weekend?,” he inquires, ruffling Casey’s hair whilst taking a seat opposite of you, pulling your daughter in his lap and bouncing her on his knee, her miniature fingers playing with his indigo tie. “I also thought that maybe we could host her birthday party at my place. She can have as many friends over as she likes and you don’t have to worry about the expenses, I’ll take care of everything for you. Unless you and Steve have already made plans, I don’t mean to impose.”

You shake your head, chuckling softly. “No, we didn’t make any plans yet, Tony. Steve’s busy running a campaign, as you are well aware of,” you say matter-of-factly, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of your ex-husband joking around with your daughter just like old times. A lot has changed since you ended your toxic relationship and things have definitely changed for the better. No more throwing mud or making a snarky comment about something trivial, you can finally breathe again.

“Tony, you were a lousy husband but believe me when I say, and I’m only going to say this once, you are an amazing father. I’ll come pick her up on Monday, you two have fun.”

You gently bump Casey’s nose with your finger and allow Tony to take your hand in his, softly grazing his lips over your knuckles, gingerly placing a kiss as his neatly groomed scruff tickles your alabaster skin. He momentarily closes his eyes. “I love you, Y/N,” he mutters against your skin before letting go of your hand and tenderly pecking Casey’s cheek who is still completely engulfed by his presence.

“I know you do, Tony,” you reply quietly, your eyes staring at the ground below. “Believe me, I know.”

The drive towards the Rogers’ mansion isn’t long and the music on the radio doesn’t seem to please you, blaming the January cold for your sudden change in mood. You can’t seem to shake the thoughts of Tony and Casey and about how happy they were together. It makes you wonder why on earth you ever got a divorce before memories of lonely days and even lonelier nights start flooding your eyes with stinging tears and you remember quite clearly why you were so eager to sign those divorce papers. Not to mention all the bruises when conversation got a little heated.

You were eighteen and fresh out of high school when your boyfriend Bucky Barnes skipped town after your late father threatened to kill him if he ever laid a finger on you again. He didn’t like the idea of his Manhattan princess fooling around with an errant boy from Brooklyn, working a couple side jobs for your dad so he could provide for a living since both his parents died when he was younger. If your old man had only known it would drive you straight into the arms of Tony Stark, his right hand and most valued business partner, he would’ve thought twice before meddling with your love life.

You were way too young and unprepared to get hitched let alone be a mother. But if it hadn’t been for your beautiful daughter Casey, the apple of your eye, to keep you company on your darkest of days, you would have felt even more isolated. She’s also the only reason why you decided to continue the legacy of the mob life and why you stayed with Tony for as long as you have.

There’s not a single thing happening in this city that you don’t know about and there’s not a single thing you’re not involved in, although you stay clear from trafficking drugs and girls, it’s despicable and right up Loki Laufeyson’s lane. Too much blood had been shed on his behalf until your father forced his hand, killed his mother and made him sign a peace treaty. Oh, if he only knew it’s the Manhattan mistress calling the shots in Brooklyn and that he’s been your bitch all this time, he’d probably make a beeline for the executioner.

Truth is, no one except for your inner circle knows the truth. Ever since your father died, rumours about his successor have been keeping his associates too busy for them to notice his prissy offspring has taken matters back into her own hands. The new mob king could really be anyone at this point but that doesn’t mean business can’t run as smoothly as it did before his decease. You’d like to keep everyone in the dark for as long as possible, not out of fear for losing their trust or respect but out of pure spite. These men are just a bunch of stuck-up, old-fashioned bastards with a stick up their ass and nothing but red on their ledger. They always used to look down on you and pity your father, a son would have been a much more convenient turn of events and yet here you are, screwing everyone over as we speak.

Even your Stevie doesn’t know what his dear wife is up to when he’s busy charming the audience with another inspiring speech and his winning attitude. You’d rather not involve your beloved husband in all the nitty gritty stuff that overshadows most of your life, he’s just too much of a soft-boiled egg to be able to handle the shit going down on the street. Besides, it would most definitely cost him his career and you your marriage because nothing good ever comes from the mob life, you learned that the hard way.

Grimacing as you pull up the driveway and get out of your car, you are greeted by Steve’s four-legged, furry friend Dodger and his new companion Trixie, the puppy Steve got Casey for Christmas. Once inside, you head straight for the kitchen and open up a bottle of your favourite wine.

“A little early for alcohol, isn’t it?,” Nat calls out from behind the grand piano in her typical sultry voice. She decided to grace you with an impromptu visit and you smirk at her, offering her a glass as well which she gladly accepts.

“I just dropped Casey off at Tony’s place,” you explain, taking a quick sip from the red liquid, revelling in the sensation of it caressing your throat with a pleasurable burn, the rich aftertaste lingering in your mouth and invading your senses with its delicious familiarity. You still have no clue how you survived 9 freaking months of pregnancy without even a single drop of your favourite liquid.

“Fair enough. She still looks at him like he hung the moon?”

You nod and Nat simply shrugs in reply. No further words are exchanged as you both sit at the kitchen island, staring at the screens of your cell phone light up with new messages and finishing your drinks in silence, occasionally giving each other a sideway glance.

“You texting dear Stevie?,” Nat asks mischievously as she wiggles her eyebrows at you suggestively. “The sex still mind-blowing or has our favourite politician been hit by a dry spell as of late?”

Word got around fast and it would be unwise to trick your best friend into believing the brick in your stomach that’s been dragging you down for the past two months never even existed. Ever since your childhood sweetheart Bucky returned to the land of the living, you have been living the life of a refugee. Conveniently enough he took up a job as Steve’s bodyguard, accompanying him on all his official visits until a couple of street rats tried to harass you on your way from a (shady) business meeting. Steve didn’t take it too kindly even though you tried to brush if off as a one-time misfortune. The next morning he decided Bucky would be of more use protecting you and he has been reassigned to you ever since.

Of course Steve is aware of your shared history but that doesn’t make him think of Bucky any less. They seem to get along just fine, as if they’ve known each other for ages already, which feeds your concern all the more. But there’s no need to worry excessively, at least not yet.

“Don’t pry, Nat, we have a healthy sex life. There’s something extremely arousing about that clean-shaven poster boy exterior and it feels just so good to sit on that self-righteous face of his you have no idea,” you admit before casually drawing a generous amount of wine.

She snorts at this, obviously amused by your statement. “Damn, Y/N, feeling blunt are we? I remember a time where you went at it like a pair of sex-crazy rabbits and knowing Tony, I believe he was rarely dressed for the occasion, if you know what I mean,” she retorts with a cheeky grin, sarcasm lacing her words sweet as honey but the sour undertone does not escape your attentive ears.

“And now I have a wonderful daughter. Nat, I know where this is coming from. I love Casey and I love Steve,” you reassure as her eyes squint in suspicion, shooting you a wary smile, “I’m not going to fuck up a long-term relationship, again.”

“I’m sorry,” she concedes with a deep sigh, reaching across the table to take your hand in hers. She gives it a gently squeeze before speaking again, this time more cautiously. “But be honest with me here, Y/N, I need to know. Do you have anything to do with Sharon’s disappearance?”

The question takes you completely by surprise, it is as if she’s taken a knife from your kitchen drawer and stabbed you in the back while you weren’t paying attention. “Why do you ask me?,” you spit out, venom fighting its way towards the tip of your tongue.

“She’s dead, Y/N, that’s why I’m asking you. Clint told me so and I have no reason to doubt him. If he tells me she’s dead, she’s dead. I take his word for it.”

“I can’t say that I have.” Your jaw is set tight, your gaze as sharp as a razor, cutting through her stony exterior. For a minute, her mask of indifference slowly slips from her striking features.

“So it is true, I can see it in your eyes,” she hisses back at you. “I didn’t think you had it in you. Bucky took care of it, I presume? He would give his life for you, so I wouldn’t be all too surprised to hear he got rid of that nasty serpent for you. Doesn’t change the fact that you now also have blood on your hands, little birdie.”

Little birdie, it’s been a long time since anyone called you little birdie. It was always Tony’s favourite pet name for you and Steve quickly picked up on it as well. But never Natasha, she thought it to be too sickly sweet for a woman with your particular skillset, your particular ambitions.

“Natasha Romanova,” I whisper through gritted teeth, “You do not understand the severity of the situation.”

She doesn’t flinch but she does let go of my hand. Nat pours herself another glass and greedily devours it without so much as blinking an eye. “Then explain it to me,” she says dryly, “Or our friendship ends here.”

I swallow thickly at the sting of her words slowly conquering my mind. “You mustn’t tell anyone,” I insist, cupping her hands with mine. Her gaze softens and I know she is willing to hear me out. “As you well know, Steve and I went behind Peggy’s back long before she got sick. I was his mistress and I’m not proud of it.”

It’s how I earned the title of Manhattan mistress. It was a well-known secret that for two consecutive years I was the other woman in Steve Rogers’ life up until his wife Peggy was diagnosed with cancer. Not a fibre in my body wanted to put a stop to the relationship – by that time I had already fallen head over heels in love with the man – yet I albeit begged Steve to let me go because there’s nothing more appalling than go behind the back of a terminally ill woman. He did as I asked him to but couldn’t stay away for long and one month later he was barging down my door, teary-eyed and trembling from having walked all the way from his Brooklyn home to my Manhattan penthouse in the freezing winter cold.

For a long time you though you only offered him some kind of a physical release for all his pent-up frustration but slowly you had also wormed your way into his heart and that night alone was enough proof of his undying love for and devotion to you. It’s safe to say you are very determined to keep it that way.

“But, you see, it’s only a matter of time before he cheats on me as well. Look at it as an insurance policy,” you stated as you took the stem of your glass in your hand and swirled the wine around, too preoccupied by the subtle glow of the deep red in the early evening light to notice the dirty look Natasha send you.

“He wouldn’t dare. The things that man did to clear his name after the scandal broke out, he wouldn’t dare bring more dishonour on his already blemished name. He loves his job way too much for that to happen.”

You draw a long breath, exhaling slowly as you smooth down the skirt of your sapphire dress, Steve’s favourite because it matches his eyes. “My dearest Natasha, I can’t risk losing Steve. You’ve seen the way Sharon looked at him and I have no intention whatsoever to get surprised like a deer in the headlights. She did however see it coming yet made no attempt to escape my gun. But I took no pleasure in it, I did not enjoy taking her life.”

“And you asked Bucky to dispose of her dead body.”

“He’s the only one I trust to deal with the matter discreetly. He’ll keep his mouth shut.”

“Y/N, he’d take a bullet for you if you’d ask him to. Of course he’ll keep his mouth shut.”

“Don’t say such things, Natasha,” you scowl at her. “Steve, he would,” you start but she promptly cuts you off, raising a perfectly manicured red fingernail to silence you.

“Oh cut the crap, Y/N. I get it, Steve’s a wonderful husband bla bla bla. Even Tony would put his life on the line for you, he’s a sucker for your charms and everyone knows you’re that motherfucker’s weak spot. Hell, they even tried to use it against him. But not Steve. He might care for Casey like she’s his own daughter but don’t be mistaken, Y/N, politics have changed him. He’s not the same man who was married to Peggy, the man you fell in love with.”

She shakes her head at your foolishness and you can’t believe her nerve. You can take a lot of shit from a lot of people and that includes your best friend, but this is way out of line and you intend to make it perfectly clear to her that she won’t pull this trick on you twice without suffering the consequences.

“Don’t you ever dare speak like that about Steve or else I will order your execution and have your head on a silver plate by noon. Steve worked very hard to get this far up the food chain. No one, not even you, is going to take that away from him. From me. We’re a family now, Steve, Casey and I. If anyone messes with my family I swear to God they’ll pay for it.”

You finish your rant with a frustrated groan. Nat looks at you flatly, sighing exasperatedly and looking at you through thick black lashes. “If you want Steve to commit, why not get pregnant again?”

She grins wickedly and you grace her with your most conniving smile. “I’ve thought about that, too. Unfortunately it didn’t work for Tony but then again nothing ever seemed to work for that man, he could never keep his hands to himself even before we got married,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Nat. “So what makes you think it’ll work for Steve?”

She looks at you unabashed, a glint of surprise sparkling in her eyes like gold tinsel on a Christmas tree. “Steve wants children, he never got the chance with Peggy. Besides, you’ve always liked the idea of a picture perfect family, a white picket fence and 2-and-a-half kids. You’ve already got Casey, what’s keeping you from getting knocked up again? I bet you’ll have a lot of fun in doing so.”

You nod wordlessly, no harm done in trying, right?

“Mark my words,” she adds mischievously, “He will love you forever if you give him his own child.”

Part 2: the friction

I honestly have no idea who to tag so I’ll just go with: @beccaanne814-blog @mellifluous-melodramas @mrshopkirk @winterboobaer @kiwi71281 @a-little-hell-to-raise @unpredictable-firecracker @marvelingatthewonder @emilyinwonderland3 @hardcorehippos @iiharu-kunii @knittingknerdy @winterwolf57 @dontbeamenacetotheforce @shamvictoria11 @theoneandonlysaucymo @bovaria @marvel-lucy @marvel-ash @thedragonblood

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sherristockman · 6 years

Link

Harvest of Greed — The Merger of Bayer and Monsanto Dr. Mercola By Dr. Mercola The featured documentary, “Harvest of Greed,” investigates a number of the many issues brought about by the merger of Monsanto and Bayer AG. The merger was initially announced in May 2016, when Monsanto accepted Bayer’s $66 billion takeover offer — the largest all-cash buyout on record.1,2,3 The U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) approved the merger in April this year,4 following the European Union’s (EU) approval in March. As a condition of the DOJ’s approval, Bayer will sell some of its assets to BASF — its German competitor — before the finalization of the merger. This includes its soybean, cottonseed and glufosinate weed killer businesses, which overlap with Monsanto’s and were antitrust sticking points. Combined, Bayer and Monsanto used to control nearly 60 percent of the American cottonseed market. Monsanto also owns the rights to 80 percent of corn and 90 percent of soybeans grown in the U.S.5 The EU also demanded Bayer eliminate about $7.4 billion-worth of its various firms “to ensure fair competition.”6 Mega-Entity Now Controls Large Portion of Global Seed Supply This new entity is now the largest seed and pesticide company in the world, controlling more than 25 percent of the global seed and pesticide supply. In all, just three companies now dominate the global seed and pesticide market.7 (In addition to the Bayer-Monsanto merger, the DOJ has also given the Dow-DuPont merger the green light, and the Federal Trade Commission recently approved ChemChina’s acquisition of Syngenta.) The Bayer-Monsanto merger generated deep concerns right from the start, and anti-competition regulators were urged to investigate the takeover. Bernie Sanders went on record saying the takeover poses “a threat to all Americans” and needed to be blocked.8 He also urged the DOJ to “reopen its investigation of Monsanto’s monopoly over the seed and chemical market.” Farmers have also expressed concern over what the merger might do to prices, as less competition inevitably tends to lead to price hikes. As just one example, the price of a bag of seed corn has risen from $80 to $300 over the past decade alone — a price hike attributed to the consolidation of seed companies and reduced competition. The merger of Bayer and Monsanto is predicted to make matters worse. Farmers also worry that consolidation will result in lower quality products by reducing incentive for innovation. Organic farmers have their concerns as well. As noted by Food and Power:9 “For Kristina Hubbard, director of advocacy and communications for the Organic Seed Alliance, the merger presents a particular threat to organic farmers. She notes that the National Organic Program’s regulations on organic seeds generally dictate that growers must use organic seeds to grow their crops. But there is an exception granted for non-organic seed when ‘an equivalent organically produced variety is not commercially available.’ Acceptable non-organic seeds are generally owned by the giant seed companies. ‘That exemption is important because currently the supply [of organic seeds] isn’t sufficient to meet the diverse and regional needs of all organic farmers,’ she says. With continued consolidation in the seed industry, she says farmers that rely on those non-organic seed options may find themselves faced with even fewer options as the merged companies cut down on research and development.” Bayer-Monsanto Merger Unlikely to Benefit Anyone but Its Shareholders Bayer AG’s CEO, Werner Baumann, has stated that “it is not our plan or our ambition or our intent to prevent farmers from having choice."10 But the history of Monsanto and Bayer both suggest it would be naïve to believe him. As noted by Mark Connelly, an agriculture analyst at the investment group CLSA Americas, “These companies want to make more money, they want to raise prices. No company in this industry needs these deals in order to innovate.”11 Indeed, there can be little doubt that the Bayer-Monsanto merger will give the subsequent entity even more power to bully farmers into paying more and pressuring and manipulating governments into accepting the unacceptable risks posed by genetically engineered (GE) crops and mounting use of ever more toxic pesticides. One example of Monsanto’s strong-arm tactics included in the film is that of India, where more than 300,000 farmers have committed suicide due to farm-related debt. When the government attempted to regulate the price of seed — the main cause leading to these debts — Monsanto sued the Indian government. Between 1997 and 2014, Monsanto also sued 147 farmers for “improperly reusing patented seeds.”12 They never lost a single case, even in cases where organic fields were contaminated or cross-pollinated with unwanted GE seeds. Billions Against Bayer In response to the announcement of the merger in 2016, the Organic Consumers Association (OCA) launched a boycott against Bayer. The “Billions Against Bayer” campaign is essentially a continuation of the successful “Millions Against Monsanto” campaign. Following the DOJ’s April approval of the merger, OCA renewed its call for consumers around the world to join the boycott. You can follow the campaign and get the latest news updates on Facebook.13 As noted in a September 2016 press release:14 “Two of the world’s most foul corporate criminals will be one. Monsanto will pack up its headquarters and head overseas. The much-maligned Monsanto name will be retired. But a corporate criminal by any other name — or size — is still a corporate criminal. This merger only heightens the urgency, and strengthens our resolve, to hunt down the corporations that are poisoning everything in sight. We will follow them to the ends of the earth, if need be. We will expose their crimes. We will end the toxic tyranny. We will become the Billions Against Bayer. And we will need your help …” Even many Bayer employees are leery of the merger. While both companies have checkered pasts, Bayer has managed to escape the brunt of the kind of criticism, if not hatred, leveled at Monsanto over the years. According to the featured documentary, Bayer claims the merger has widespread support among its staff, yet when Bayer employees were approached under the promise of anonymity, the general consensus was one of dismay at inheriting Monsanto’s tarnished reputation. Such fears are likely to come true sooner rather than later. Activists in Argentina, for example, promise Monsanto’s ill reputation cannot be washed clean but will now transfer over to Bayer. Glyphosate — A Toxic Legacy Both Bayer and Monsanto insist that glyphosate, the active ingredient in Monsanto’s weed killer Roundup and other herbicide formulations, is “a very safe product when used properly.” In the video, Bayer CEO Werner Baumann stresses that more than 3,000 studies support the chemical’s safety. Yet numerous studies have reached the converse conclusion, showing it poses toxic risks to soil, animals and humans. “The things you hear in the public debate are ultimately based on misinformation about the risks of this product,” Baumann says. “So, we think glyphosate, even if it does belong to our company, is a good product, and its license should be renewed.” At the end of 2017, the EU did indeed renew its approval of glyphosate for the next five years,15 but the process was not without its critics, such as Martin Häusling, member of the Green Party and the European Parliament, who noted that many of the studies exonerating glyphosate were funded by Monsanto itself, while independent research keeps finding problems. Indeed, scientists have discovered it not only may be carcinogenic,16 but may also affect your body’s ability to produce fully functioning proteins, inhibit the shikimate pathway (found in gut bacteria) and interfere with the function of cytochrome P450 enzymes (required for activation of vitamin D and the creation of nitric oxide and cholesterol sulfate). Glyphosate also chelates important minerals, disrupts sulfate synthesis and transport, interferes with the synthesis of aromatic amino acids and methionine, resulting in folate and neurotransmitter shortages, disrupts your microbiome by acting as an antibiotic, impairs methylation pathways, and inhibits pituitary release of thyroid stimulating hormone, which can lead to hypothyroidism. Recent Government Tests Show Roundup Is More Toxic Than Glyphosate in Isolation Most recently, toxicology testing17 by the U.S. National Toxicology Program (NTP) concluded the Roundup formula is actually far more toxic than glyphosate alone.18 The NTP testing was done by request from the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) following the International Agency for Research on Cancer (IARC) reclassification of glyphosate as a Class 2A probable carcinogen three years ago.19 At the time, the IARC noted concerns about glyphosate formulations possibly having increased toxicity due to synergistic interactions. As it turns out, that’s exactly what the NTP testing found. According to the NTP’s summary of the results, glyphosate formulations “significantly altered” the viability of human cells by disrupting the functionality of cell membranes. Mike DeVito, acting chief of the NTP Laboratory commented on the results saying, “We see the formulations are much more toxic. The formulations were killing the cells. The glyphosate really didn’t do it.” Internal documents from Monsanto, obtained through previous Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) requests, reveal Monsanto’s own employees have not been convinced the product is harmless either. For example, in a 2002 email, Monsanto executive William Heydens said, “Glyphosate is OK but the formulated product … does the damage.”20 Monsanto Charged With Crimes Against Humanity October 16, 2016 (on World Food Day), Monsanto was put on trial for “crimes against nature and humanity” at a tribunal in The Hague, Netherlands. The steering committee21 included Vandana Shiva, Corinne Lepage (former environment minister of France), Giles-Eric Séralini (toxicologist researching toxicities of GMOs and glyphosate), and Olivier De Schutter (former U.N. Special Rapporteur on the Right to Food), among others. The legal opinion on the evidence presented at the tribunal was delivered April 18, 2017. As reported by Corporate Europe Observatory:22 “The tribunal concluded that: Monsanto has violated human rights to food, health, a healthy environment and the freedom indispensable for independent scientific research ‘Ecocide’ should be recognized as a crime in international law Human rights and environmental laws are undermined by corporate-friendly trade and investment regulation” When asked if Bayer will continue Monsanto’s underhanded business practices, Baumann said the new entity will be managed “according to our standards,” adding that “Bayer stands for transparency, reliability and a different style of debate.” Monsanto — A Destroyer of the Natural World In addition to GE seeds and its flagship product, Roundup, Monsanto has also been a leading producer of Agent Orange, PCBs, DDT, recombinant bovine growth hormone and aspartame — the history of which is summarized in “The Complete History of Monsanto, ‘The World’s Most Evil Corporation,’”23 originally published by Waking Times in 2014.24 Monsanto also made its mark on history by participating in the Manhattan Project to build the first atomic bomb, thereby becoming a “war horse” ally to the United States government — an alliance that still holds today. As noted in “The Complete History,” article: “To add insult to world injury, Monsanto and their partners in crime Archer Daniels Midland, Sodexo and Tyson Foods write and sponsor The Food Safety Modernization Act of 2009: HR 875.25 This ‘act’ gives the corporate factory farms a virtual monopoly to police and control all foods grown anywhere, including one’s own backyard, and provides harsh penalties and jail sentences for those who do not use chemicals and fertilizers. President Obama … gave his approval. With this Act, Monsanto claims that only GM [genetically modified] foods are safe and organic or homegrown foods potentially spread disease, therefore must be regulated out of existence for the safety of the world … As further revelations have broken open regarding this evil giant’s true intentions, Monsanto crafted the ridiculous HR 933 Continuing Resolution,26 aka Monsanto Protection Act, which Obama robo-signed into law as well. This law states that no matter how harmful Monsanto’s GMO crops are and no matter how much devastation they wreak upon the country, U.S. federal courts cannot stop them from continuing to plant them anywhere they choose. Yes, Obama signed a provision that makes Monsanto above any laws and makes them more powerful than the government itself.” Bayer Also Has a Long, Dark, Destructive History of Genocide Despite having a far “cleaner” public reputation than Monsanto, Bayer is really just more of the same. Founded in Germany in 1863 by Friedrich Bayer and Johann Wescott, it too has a long, sordid history of creating poisons and mass destruction.27 During World War II, Bayer (then I.G. Farben) produced Zyklon B gas, used in the Nazi gas chambers to eradicate 11 million people whose only crime was to be born a Jew. According to Alliance for Human Research Protection, the company was also “intimately involved with the human experimental atrocities committed by Mengele at Auschwitz.”28 In one case, Bayer purchased 150 healthy female prisoners from the camp commander of Auschwitz for use as test subjects for a new sleep drug. All the test subjects died, and another order for prisoners was placed. While some of its board members ended up being arrested and tried for their crimes against humanity, others escaped and helped create the Federal Reserve.29 If you think the passing of time might have made this corporate entity kinder, safer and gentler, think again. In 2003, it was revealed Bayer sold blood-clotting medicine tainted with the HIV virus to Asian, Latin American and Europe in the mid-1980s.30 The drug, Factor VIII concentrate, was worth millions of dollars, and the company continued to sell the tainted drug for a year after the contamination was discovered. In Hong Kong and Taiwan alone, more than 100 hemophiliacs contracted HIV and died after using the medicine. Bayer’s drug Trasylol — used to control bleeding during surgery — was also eventually found to be responsible for at least 1,000 deaths each month for the 14 years it was on the market.31 In 2006, documents proved Bayer hid evidence showing unfavorable results from the drug in order to continue selling it. Lawsuits have also been filed against Bayer for the untimely death of 190 young women taking their birth control pill Yaz, which raises your risk of blood clots by 300 percent. Bayer Unlikely to Shift Public Perception of GMOs and Toxic Agriculture Between 2006 and 2007, Bayer was also responsible for contaminating U.S. rice imports with three unapproved varieties of GE rice under development by Bayer CropScience. Bayer also makes neonicotinoid pesticides, suspected of being responsible for mass die-offs of bees around the world, thereby threatening the global food supply, and made the plastic chemical bisphenol-A, now known to have a dangerous impact on the human endocrine system. In short, Bayer’s history is just as dark and unethical as Monsanto’s, if not more, and some have rightfully referred to the merger of these two destructive behemoths as a “marriage made in hell.”32 While change is possible, it seems improbable that this new Bayer-Monsanto mega-entity will radically change, and based on their combined histories, the world better get ready for a monumental fight.

#VitalityPath

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trilotechcorp · 7 years

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New Post has been published on PBA-Live

New Post has been published on http://pba-live.com/4x4-smbs-chase-for-perpetual-trophy-or-ginebras-shot-at-history/

4×4: SMB’s chase for Perpetual Trophy or Ginebra’s shot at history?

On one hand, there’s the defending champion San Miguel Beermen seeking a third straight All Filipino crown to cement their legacy with the Perpetual Trophy. At the other end are the Brgy. Ginebra Kings who defied tremendous odds, surviving four do-or-die games to reach the Finals for the second straight conference and bidding to become the lowest seed to win a championship.

Someone’s gotta give and our four PBA panelists will help us break down this series with four burning questions that could somehow paint us a picture on what’s about to go down.

1. Should Tim Cone continue to gamble with JDV especially with SMB parading a healthy JMF?

Jason Mercene (FOX Sports PBA beat reporter): I think there’s room to sit out JDV for the first couple of games. Hearing how head coach Tim Cone and JDV himself described how painful he took those anesthetic shots (cue horror: long needles) pre-game and during halftime in the Star series just to play could pose a serious threat on his career in the long run. Yes, undermanned could be an understatement for Ginebra down low with three-time MVP JMF bringing in damage for San Miguel but you can’t just gamble the future of a versatile (and great) guy like JDV, who’s a certified championship piece (exhibit A: 7 titles) for head coach Tim Cone for years. Ginebra can just hope bringing JDV in for Game 3, in what many predicted to be a full seven-game series, would spark the turning point of their title bid.

Enzo Flojo (hoopnut blog): Hardly any choice for coach Tim. He will really need someone to match up with JMF in terms of sheer size, and outside of Japeth Aguilar, JDV is the only healthy guy on his roster remotely approximating the Kraken’s height and girth. It would have certainly been quite challenging to contain the reigning MVP had Greg Slaughter been healthy, but even more so now that Ginebra will rely mainly on any combination of Japeth, JDV, Aljon Mariano, Jervy Cruz, and Dave Marcelo up front. I suspect coach Tim will probably focus on ball denial against JMF or really crowding him in the paint and gambling on SMB’s outside shooting. Either way, life is going to be extra tough for Ginebra’s bigs.

Rolly Mendoza (hoopnut blog): If JDV can play, he should play even with limited minutes. He is a big body who has 6 fouls that can be used to harass and bother JMF. Devance can also give breaks to their bigs. Aside from that, JDV is also someone who can produce points and make plays. It would be a big disadvantage for Ginebra if JDV doesn’t play especially since Greg Slaughter is still injured. Perhaps 20 minutes or less would be ideal for JDV. Every little thing will help against SMB.

Angel Velasco (kili kili shot blog): Depends entirely on how healthy JDV is; he says that he doesn’t mind taking the pre-game shots and that he is feeling a lot better so that’s good news for Ginebra. We all saw how valuable JDV was in helping turn the Star-Ginebra series around; his length on defense that helped set their pick-and-roll jam/ trap for Paul Lee and his IQ on offense as L.A. Tenorio’s chief “reset the offense” partner.

2. Should Leo Austria continue to live and die with his starters?

Jason: Playoffs, especially in a championship series, is for players who know how to win ball games and the core of JMF, Santos, Lassiter, Cabagnot, and Ross are exactly that type of guys. They are not 2-time Philippine Cup defending champion for nothing and head coach Leo Austria, well uhh, has proven himself as an able handler of their minutes and their egos (remember Petronovela?) as well. His basketball approach may be old-school but it’s a winning formula altogether so I expect Austria to stick to that while daring his counterparts to make their calculated adjustments. Can his idol and the winningest coach in the league Tim Cone expose him? We’ll see.

Enzo: The Beermen have the deepest roster in the league. Their second or even some of their third stringers can be bona fide starters on other PBA clubs. Coach Leo, however, has cleverly trusted his starting unit for much of the playoffs up until this point. I think this is a ploy for coach Leo to play his relatively fresh reserves and tap into his team’s inherent depth. I expect that his main five guys (JMF, Arwind, Alex, Marcio, and Ross) will still get a lion’s share of the minutes, but I wouldn’t put it past him to have “magic hugot” players in pretty much every game. Guys like RR Garcia, Gabby Espinas, and even Ronald Tubid can put up big numbers on occasion, and coach Leo surely wouldn’t mind having them explode in the Finals.

Rolly: Well, playing with a short rotation and giving a lot of minutes to his starters brought SMB to their third straight Philippine Cup Finals. There’s no point changing a winning formula/strategy this late in the conference. This is how Coach Leo uses his guys and this is how they respond and play. It also helps that the Beermen have the best starting 5.

Angel: Yes, definitely. Though a little rest wouldn’t hurt every now and then. They’ve won big with this same rotation, so why change it?

3. Who are the X-Factors for each team?

Jason: For Ginebra, with JDV doubtful to play as of the moment, Ginebra’s next man up philosophy will bank on Jervy Cruz anew. Cruz gave the Gin Kings a huge lift in the Star series and I don’t expect him to slow down. While he’s relatively undersized against JMF, Cruz can make up for that with his reliable perimeter jumpers and King Tiger-like hustle. Honorable mentions: Scottie Thompson and Kevin Ferrer, how much youth impact can they inject in the series against a champion team full of veterans?

For SMB, you can’t just poke the bear like Chris Ross. With his vastly-improved shooting, Ginebra can’t overlook Ross as SMB’s weakest point in offense. Honorable mention: Entire bench. When the demand calls for back-up, who’s ready to step up?

Enzo: For Ginebra, their wingmen will have to really step up. Japeth, LA, and Sol will all get their numbers, sure, but guys like Scottie Thompson, Chris Ellis, Kevin Ferrer, and Mariano will all have to contribute heavily for the Gin Kings to pull off a monumental upset against SMB. Unlike Ginebra’s series against Meralco where the Bolts had just a few reliable stars, this series will have SMB throwing their chock-full of top-level talent at the Gin Kings. Coach Tim is maybe the most brilliant tactician to ever grace the PBA, but even his acumen may not be enough on its own to scale the SMB mountain.

For the Beermen, they will have to click on all cylinders. On paper, they are the best team in the PBA, and they have pretty much proven it so far, though they were severely tested by TNT in the semis. Had the Ka Tropa paraded full rosters in Games 6 and 7, who knows, right? Right now, with a third straight PBA Philippine Cup within their reach, the Beermen cannot afford to relax. Their main stars — JMF, Arwind, Alex, Marcio, and Ross – all must be at their very best. They cannot afford to give Ginebra any edge in this series, as the Kings have shown how even the smallest degree of momentum can push them to play beyond their own capabilities. SMB has to strike fast and strike hard.

Rolly: For Ginebra, it has to be Sol Mercado. He was arguably their best player against the Hotshots and this was evident when he was named Best Player of the Game twice. He averaged 13.4 points, 3.6 rebounds, 3.3 assists and 1.0 steal versus the Hotshots. He also connected on 10 threes which tied him with Tenorio for most threes on his team. Truly, Mercado delivered all-around games for most of the semis. Additionally, his defense wasn’t all bad. He helped limit Paul Lee during the latter portions of the series. Sol should see some time defending all of SMB’s perimeter players.

For SMB, it has to be Arwind Santos. In their 4 wins during the semis, Santos averaged 16.3 points and 9.0 rebounds. He also turned in two amazing performances during games 6 and 7 where he scored 21 and 22 points, respectively. Moreover, Santos was named the Best Player in Game 6 where SMB avoided elimination. Aside from scoring, his defense will also be tested by Japeth Aguilar and the aggressive duo from UST, Kevin Ferrer and Aljon Mariano.

Angel: R.R. Garcia needs to step up and go back to his UAAP MVP ways. Ginebra will try its best to turn this into another low-scoring, fugly basketball match, so it’s up to Garcia to make sure that the tempo favors SMB when he comes in.

Sol Mercado will be needed to perform at a high level once more on both ends. Alex Cabagnot’s career has been given new life now that he has shifted to shooting guard full-time. Ginebra will need Mercado to play honest defense on Cabagnot AND score on the opposite end to attack, what I feel, is the SMB’s starting unit’s weakest link defensively.

4. Who will win it all and in how many games?

Jason: Game 7. San Miguel is bringing home their very own Perpetual Trophy. But at the back of my mind, I hope to see a Beeracle version of Ginebra, but compare to SMB’s Philippine Cup title run last season, there’s no need to coin a word for the feat. Just call it Never Say Die.

Enzo: I admire Ginebra’s heart. For the second conference in a row, they have reached the Finals sans arguably their best player, Greg Slaughter. Unlike their match up with Meralco in the 2016 Govs’ Cup, however, Ginebra will be facing a much stronger foe in SMB. It’s never wise to bet against coach Tim, but SMB’s depth and their championship experience in this particular conference may just be a little too much for the Kings to overcome.

Rolly: This is definitely a tough call. Both teams matchup well with each other. I’ve gone against Ginebra twice already during the playoffs, and I’ve been burned twice. Hence, I won’t make the same mistake thrice. I’m picking Ginebra in 7. I believe they mean business and they’re the hungrier team.

Angel: Gut feel: Ginebra. Five or seven.

Source: http://www.foxsportsasia.com/en-ph/basketball/news/detail/item626574/4×4-smbs-chase-perpetual-trophy-ginebras-shot-history/

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 1 year

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Hiii i hope you're doing well ! Your cosplay is amazing <3 im just sharing quickly another nightly thought before falling asleep haha

So with Baizhu coming soon I remembered how everyone agree to say his medicine is extra bitter and taste bad. When you fell sick you naturelly have to take them and one day Foul legacy decide to taste some (mothman is very curious) and end up sticking his tongue out while looking at you with his big eye, refusing to give them back to you until hes 100% sure that this is really medicine and it will help with sickness :')

Idk if mothman can even fell sick but if he does makes him take his medicine will probably take hours after that event

you combine my two loves, Foul Legacy and Baizhu, and i will love it to bits and pieces!!!

you really hadn't meant to get sick- really, you promise! but the sudden downpour a few days prior had caught you by surprise, and no matter how much you tried to ignore it, you were coughing your lungs out every few minutes and Childe was starting to worriedly tug on your sleeve. it's just a bad cold- that's what Baizhu told you, and that's what you told Childe, showing him the herbs the doctor gave you with a sheepish smile. he stands behind you as you boil the plants, his chin settled on your shoulder and chirping curiously as you reach to scritch under his chin

Legacy follows you to the couch once the tea is finished, intent on curling up on your lap as you carefully sip your piping-hot drink. after a moment, being incredibly sneaky, Childe quietly takes a taste from your mug

big mistake. the brew is bitter and medicinal tasting, not to mention scalding hot, and he ends up yelping and whining in dismay. immediately he plucks the mug from your hands and sets it where you can't reach it, hugging you to his chest when you attempt to take it back. at first you chuckle at the high-pitched whines slipping from his mouth as he buries his face in your hair, until your throat stings and you start coughing again. Legacy's grip on you loosens, and he lets out a sigh before begrudgingly sliding the mug back into reach- it's from Baizhu, someone you trust to heal you, so he can trust the doctor too, right? he does notice how you also grimace whenever you swallow and is pleased to know that it's not just his sense of taste... although he will encourage you to eat something that tastes nicer afterwards. it's a reward for being able to choke down that bitter medicine!!!

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 1 year

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The tag rambles in (the post about moth/dead!us fluttering around Foul Legacy) have given me even more random angsty ideas hehehe

Also, for a bit of size context, I personally would see us as an Atlas Moth (they're very pretty, just like everyone here <3).

"in an alternate universe Childe vanished and a sparkly moth started following you around" Ack okay but the simultaneous misery and nostalgia at getting a mini version of the big moth that we love so much. Honestly, I think that prospect would just break us, so here's a few ideas and whatnot: - Underside of the moth's wings would be sparkly, while the topside would probably be some sort of dark purple. - Antennae that look like Legacy's horns <3 <3 - Literal-moth moth would probably try to stick around our hands as much as possible - Unfortunately, we can't pet him like we could when he was mothman. Because, y'know, fragile creature and all that.

"ohhh if the moth gets hurt (because it's so easy for them to get hurt) Foul Legacy starts sobbing" - Moths can't fly again if a wing breaks, unfortunately ;-; - Frankly, I can indeed see Foul Legacy just end up sobbing at a wing of ours being broken (ooo that's a new idea, maybe I'll touch it later...) - Us, with a broken wing, crawling over and around both his claws and mask, also maybe nestling in his fur(hair)? - Uncertain if a soul moth (as I'm gonna call us) needs nutrients like a regular moth. However, if we do, then Foul Legacy may just stop by forests or something frequently in order to keep as as healthy as we can be <3

~ :D Anon (Sorry it took me so long, was busy with tests ehe)

Note: I removed the link, hopefully it'll send this time? If it does, then woop-

aaaa yeah tumblr asks can be very VERY finicky especially on anon for some reason??? once i tried to send one in and it wouldn't let me because i had too many commas, tsk tsk!!! (original ask here <33)

Foul Legacy little moth: !!!! oh my goodness imagine you're in that state where you're trying so hard to cling onto hope, trying so hard to seem fine so you don't worry your friends and family- and it seems like the little moth that started following you everywhere only helps you heal, or at least people think it should since it's a constant, comforting presence

but the moth knows the truth- it knows how you sometimes break down when you're alone in your room, no matter how happy you try to seem during the day. it knows how you cry into your hands, your sobs of "where could he be?" as you despair over your lost Abyssal monster, your missing Foul Legacy

the little moth can only perch on your fingers, fuzzy antennae waving in your face like it's trying to wipe away your tears, and despite your sadness you still find the energy to cup your friend in your hands and smile wearily- just as kind as Childe remembers

you little moth: Foul Legacy will break if his tiny moth companion gets hurt- even more so if it was by him, even on accident. his talons and armor is sharp, deadly to something so small and delicate, and he cradles the moth in his hands and weeps. the little insect flicks its antennae, almost as if it's trying to reassure him, but all he can see is the rip in the poor thing's wing

he doesn't know the moth is you, intent on keeping him company even after death- he simply knows that it feels familiar, that the creature is dear to him and someone to be treasured, for when else will a moth willingly become friends with a beast? he swears you keep you safe from now on, allowing you to snuggle into his fluff or hair, away from his claws and teeth. occasionally you'll go and perch on one of his horns, happily enjoying the breeze that you can't fly in anymore, at least not as well

on particularly peaceful days he tentatively allows you to sit on one of his claws, basking in the sun and looking awfully proud of yourself despite being a moth. you flutter your wings and he flutters his back, and Legacy can see you happily waving your antennae in the air

at those moments, Childe knows peace

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #chit chat #:D anon #this got long but that's ok because i looove this concept #don't worry about taking a while either!!! i also take a long time ehe #story time one of my relatives is scared of moths and one day i found an Atlas moth on a neighbor's doorstep #so naturally i went home and brought my relative out to see it #it was a fun day :)#short scenario #other's stuff #FAVE

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